I Think I Am Water
Some creative words about water, in honour of World Water Day, March 22,2012:
I think I am water.
Fluid, solid, vapour, always changing, perpetually moving. Water is both enigmatic and vital to life; does water understand itself? Molecular, the essence of everything alive; terrifying, the tsunami that takes life; gentle, the rain that gives life, lying in lakes and flowing through rivers, gathering in secret underground caverns. Two molecules, hydrogen and oxygen, in an electron dance.
Water shouldn’t be a liquid; that is, not at normal temperatures. Everything around it on the periodic table, like nitrogen, or phosphorus, produces a gas when combined with hydrogen. But not oxygen; the positive charge of the hydrogen and the negative charge of the oxygen produces such a strong electrical attraction that the molecules, instead of repelling each other, cling tightly. It shouldn’t be a liquid. But it is.
Water runs through my life like a stream, tumbling from the mountains to lie in shadowed pools, rippling down under sun and wind where, with the brilliance of diamonds, it dazzles the eye; limpid at dawn and deep, still and watchful at night with its necklace of stars or shroud of cloud. Rising to heaven as a breath, falling with the weeping of clouds or soft feathers of snow, stinging barbs of beautiful ice.
Strangely simple and weirdly complex. Changing with the weather, clinging tightly to its relationships. I think I am water.