What the River Carries

A few weeks ago I had a chat with a man who has observed the river for about 90 years.  "There are some organizations who think they know a lot about the Ottauquechee River," he said.  He told me about the days when the Bridgewater Mill poured dye into the river.  Folks knew by the color of the rocks which sort of dye spewed out that day. The mill went out of business because the owners could not afford the technology to keep the river clear, an effective way to improve the Ottauquechee, and tough for those who lost their jobs.

In the late 60s, I worked for a hiking camp on the Cold River, along the Maine/New Hampshire border north of Fryeburg.  My job included regular trips through Gorham to pick up food orders and do laundry.  I would drive along the Androscoggin River, whose stink betrayed its presence before I saw its milky brown, sinister-looking stream.  Things are better on that river now, although from what I read, not great either.  Some mills still work, for better and worse.

The title of Tim O'Brien's collection of stories of the Vietnam War, The Things They Carried, makes me wonder what the river carries still, and how what kind of story those burdens tell.

The freeze and thaw cycle came and went gently in the past day.