“Way down upon the S’wanee River, far far away…”
It is far away…830 miles away, as I sit in my home near Washington D.C. Hard to believe I was there a week ago, meandering the paths as I tried to re-orient myself to living on land after months on a boat.
I just had to stop there during my drive north. That song is a favorite on my harmonica. It makes me feel things … and feeling things is one of my goals in this stage of my life. As one of those “capable” people who also has 100%-Finnish DNA (according to Ancestry.com), I’ve learned to squash my feelings, or at least hide them. But in the wide-open space of what we call “retirement,” with time for reflection, I’ve learned that this habit has limited me. Kept me from being fully-alive. Kept me from knowing myself.
“There’s where my heart is turning ever, there’s where the old folks stay.”
The lyrics ran through my mind as I wandered among the amusingly-named southern flora of the Lower Suwanee National Wildlife Refuge, reflecting on the “old folks” in my own family. Dad’s sister had turned 105 a few days before and Mom turns 100 in a month or so. They both love words and still win at Scrabble. They would so enjoy the names displayed before me on wooden stakes. Sparkle Berry. Sweet Gum. Loblolly Pine. And, Horrible Thistle! (All thistles seem fairly horrible, especially the prickly kind that spreads at my camp in the far-north, no matter how many I dig up. But I didn’t know that one of them is actually named “horrible.” 😉 )
I saw the swampland version of familiar deciduous trees…Water Oak, River Birch…and marveled at their adaptability. And the exotic swamp cypress tree, which sprouts knees (woody projections) that grow vertically from waterlogged roots. What resilience!
It was a good lesson from nature as I got back into my car for 800 more miles behind a wheel (not helm). As I dodged a semi coming much too quickly into my lane from an on-ramp, with nowhere for me to go…as a car flew by me at 90+ mph and weaved through the lanes…I recognized my own resilience. Driving at high speed among moving hunks of metal is not that different from driving at 8.5 mph among barges and currents and tight river bends. In both cases, you need to look ahead. Scan constantly. Find escape routes just in case. Go with the flow, but with eyes wide open! And breathe. Always breathe.
And if I feel an emotion or two during this all this dodging and scanning? Maybe fear, followed by relief? That’s fine, too. Eyes wide open, but heart open too. That was my goal on the boat, and it’s my goal on land also. I’m amazed at how hard that is for a “capable Finn!” But then, hard challenges can be the most rewarding.
Just look at those cypress knees growing along the bank of the Suwanee River. It must be hard to find a foothold (root-hold?) in that swampy land. And yet, there they are.
For the full lyrics and history of “Suwanee River,” click here. (Note: This post is under “Reflections” on this blog. To read about the boat only, select “The Boat” from the menu.)
8 thoughts on “Suwanee River”
Music will do that to you. Sometimes I think that if humanity was wiped out by an asteroid or something the only thing the universe would miss is our music.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mary, I wrote a response and it disappeared-If this is a double, my apology.
My wife and I left New Jersey and “assumed ” the ownership and operation of a former functioning plantation in the Low Country of South Carolina. I was in the Driving (horses) competition ‘game” throughout the South East. We ‘drove all over and were with Mother Nature. We lived with the bugs, the snakes, the gators, and whatever. They were respected by us and vice-versa. It was right up your alley and should we meet, we have a lot to discuss. BTW, One plant we never went near was the palmettos. It was there that we found the home of the Diamondback. I reminisce with your writing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your comment makes me happy! Thanks for trying again to post it.
I am trying to picture this driving of horses…
Mary, I take great pride in what we did on the plantation, including all the horse activity. I am willing to tell you about it but don’t want to clutter up your blog. You have my email. Do you want to go outside the blog?
I remember that song. My father used to sing it with us. Talk about feelings! He would have loved to read your blog and see where you have traveled. He taught us to love the beauty of nature and the value of every life form. My husband and I saw a similar environment on Hontoon Island State Park on the St. Johns River near Deltona, FL. The oak trees were massive!
I remember that park and i thought of it too while at Suwanee! I rented a house boat to spend several days on that river. It’s a great memory. Thanks for sharing yours.