Project Research Log Report 1: Erik, Tessa, Bethany

1. Confluence– Ice cutting operation, log drives on Delaware, Getter’s Island

The Confluence is a hidden gem of Easton’s edge. Where the Bushkill meets the Delaware, there is piece of crumbling infrastructure that now acts as a partial dam. To the south, there is a homeless person’s paradise. It is complete with a practice target, a rope swing and a fire pit. The home is made up of blue construction tarps along with fallen trees that offers a great deal of protection from the elements. The ground is rocky until it meets the water edge. The water is calm off the Bushkill tributary; it appears to be no deeper than a foot.

Getter’s Island is in the middle of the Delaware River. It would be impossible for us to get there without swimming across. The island shores are rocky, and it is covered in various varieties of trees and shrubs. We see no wildlife, but you can hear the birds in the trees.

As we walk North towards 611, the cars pass us, speeding to their destination. The riverside of the highway is covered in litter. We pass another homeless person’s campground, carful not to disturb them. We come to the end of Getter’s Island, the entire landmass can be no more than half a mile long and 200 feet across at its widest point.

Observing Getter’s Island would have been much different if we were able to physically get on the Island and experience it. We would have been able to be up close to the nature, but instead we observe from a distance.

Erik Better, Tessa Broholm, Bethany RackDSC_0242 DSC_0239 DSC_0243 DSC_0249

Crowfoot, Crowfoot Why the Tears?

When we watched the short litter-prevention ad of the “Crying Indian” I was promptly reminded of an exhibition I once visited that centered on the indigenous people of Canada. Amidst traditional clothing, hunting tools, building tools, and other artifacts and pieces of information, there was a small screening room that featured the short film/long music video I am posting here. It’s dense and historic in content but I have watched and listened to it so many times I’ve lost count. It speaks to the strengths and sorrows of the native people of the North American continent who have historically recognized and respected the natural world far more than their immigrant, namely colonial (and us as descendants) counterparts.

It is a moving piece if you devote the time to it, featuring pleas to remember the importance of the drive to save the buffalo and stand their ground, and lamenting of the loss of life at the hands of those who didn’t care enough to preserve it. I think it would be cheap to offer too much of my own interpretation without opening it first to anyone who wishes to form one of their own, but I find it an important and memorable piece of Native art and music.

<iframe src=”https://www.nfb.ca/film/ballad_of_crowfoot/embed/player” width=”560″ height=”315″ frameborder=”0″></iframe><p style=”width:560px”><a href=”https://www.nfb.ca/film/ballad_of_crowfoot” target=”_blank”><em>The Ballad of Crowfoot</em></a> by <a href=”https://www.nfb.ca/explore-all-directors/willie-dunn/” title=”more films by Willie Dunn” target=”_blank”>Willie Dunn</a>, <a href=”https://www.nfb.ca” target=”_blank”>National Film Board of Canada</a></p>

Down by the River

There’s a TED talk I once listened to that featured Mark Ronson and a few other collaborative artists on the nature and importance of collaboration, as well as the apparent human instinct to collaborate. One of things I always remember when I am quick to question a remix or a re-imagining of something that I already love is something that Mark Ronson said which was that we are drawn to insert ourselves into that which we love. When we began briefly to talk about songs about rivers, other than The River (which is my favorite in the Boss’ grand repertoire) I thought immediately of Down By The River by the king of angry environmental folk rock himself- Neil Young.

Though I actually knew of the Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds version before I knew the original, I have always connected with the instrumentals in the song in a way that I identify with the rush of a dammed or rocky river. The way it’s fluid but also jolting is especially evident whilst kayaking, particularly in the rippling rapid-like patches we traversed. I don’t know, I guess either version is just a treat to listen to so I thought I would leave them here for anyone who hasn’t had the pleasure of hearing them previously.

 

Neil Young:

Dave:

River Twins

I first heard this song at a music festival in Prague where Ibeyi (“twins” in the West African language, Yoruba) performed. I was immediately enchanted by the simple beauty of this song and the warmth of the flowing harmonies. Upon more listenings of this song, I began to induce meaning from the lyrics and instrumentals, alike. After our kayaking trip and river readings, I began to find even more meaning in these lyrics. For reference, here are the lyrics:

Come to you river
I will come to your river
I will come to you river
Come to you river
(Wash my soul)
I will come to your river
(Wash my soul)
I will come to your river
(Wash my soul again)
Carry away my dead leaves
Let me baptize my soul with the help of your waters
Sink my pains and complains
Let the river take them, river drown them
My ego and my blame
Let me baptize my soul with the help of your waters
Those old means, so ashamed
Let the river take them, river drown them
[Yoruban Outro]:
Wemile Oshun
Oshun dede
Alawede Wemile Oshun
Moolowo beleru yalode moyewede

Unfortunately, I cannot find the Yoruba translation for the last verse, so I’ll just focus on the english parts. The song talks about cleansing, “baptizing,” and asking the river to wash away negativity such as “pains and complains.” There is definitely something pure about rivers, regardless of their actual chemical purity. The phrase “baptize my soul” makes me think about Abbey’s “Down the River” because he seems to experience a sort of spiritual awakening and soul cleansing during his journey down the Colorado River where time becomes irrelevant, and civilization just a dream. Both the song and “Down the River” invoke the feeling that experiencing rivers is necessary for human cleansing and peace. The river can “carry away my dead leaves” in a literal sense if leaves are falling from trees and in a metaphorical sense if the leaves are the stagnant remnants of society hanging from the limbs of one’s soul.

The music itself, without the words, also describes the personality of rivers. The pounding drum beats are the rocks which shape the river flow of the river as the drum beats shape the song. The consistent harmonies in the background are the constant flow and dynamism of the river. The vocals on top of the simple backbeat is the variation in bird sounds, insect sounds, waterfalls, etc. which one also encounters while on the river. Notice the vocal melody is dynamic, but does repeat throughout the song. Each bird voice is unique, yet aligns with the other bird voices around it, creating a repetitive tune. The outro is completely different than the song before it, symbolizing that a river can change pace and personality changing from completely calm to rocky rapids.

 

House Hunters: Delaware River Edition

My mom is an avid watcher of House Hunters and our TV at home rarely strays from Home and Garden TV Station (HGTV). She forwards me emails weekly of houses around our area in New Jersey because “it never hurts to look.” She has a platinum card to Pier One Imports and a box of decorations for every season change and holiday that she adorns throughout our home.

Needless to say, wherever I go, I look at houses. This includes going down the Delaware River. The majority of the homes here are on stilts, built up to protect them from flooding when the river rises. After Sandy, a large portion of the houses along the Delaware were swept away, but a lot of people chose to rebuild despite the risks.

A lot of things draw people towards the river. It’s peaceful, it’s nature, and it’s a chance to get away from society. When you live on the river, all your problems seem to flow away. None of the homes along the Delaware were mansions lined with white picket fences and flowery beds, but there is a certain thing that draws people to the water. Be it the beach, lakes, streams or rivers, the allure and magic of water appeals to people.

River Songs

Music is something I find very important and am rarely not listening to something. There are many songs about water and rivers, and I realized that some of my favorite songs fall into this category. I want to show two songs to you all that are very different stylistically but have a very similar message.

“Like a River” by My Morning Jacket   This is my favorite song and is part of their newest album The Waterfall, which I recommend listening all the way through.

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/mymorningjacket/likeariver.html
This song describes a love for the river and the joy of flowing with the river.

Similarly the collaboration between two excellent singers: Johnny Flynn and Laura Marling named “The Water” describes the importance of water. Not only does water sustaining physically with life and growth, the water sustains the soul of a person.

http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858798941/

DelaWHERE? – Rivers & My Sense of Place

Andy held A Sand County Almanac to read a passage from “Flambeau.” He read as his kayak continued to drift downstream. In that moment, I realized how unique this experience was. At the same time, I realized our insignificance in comparison to the water that flowed beneath us. The river continued on, despite our conversations, while we sit in class at Lafayette and even as we sit right on its surface. The river has been flowing and will continue flowing.

The Delaware is the longest free-flowing river along the east coast of the United States. I am amazed by this fact. Our professors joked, “Let’s go to Cape May!” We could row to Cape May? This is a place where I spent so many summers as a child (Book your Lobster House reservation now!). I think of the 3-plus hour drive it takes to get to this shore point from my home in Whippany, NJ. I am amazed by the vastness of rivers and all to which water connects us. Prior to this trip, I thought nothing of the Delaware River and the significance of time, space, and culture that courses through its water. I felt this connection – the “magic” – that Eiseley so powerfully describes. And what of the other rivers that I have yet to explore? I have rafted along the Colorado River, I was amazed by the canyons that surrounded me and somehow I felt the Delaware was less significant. While driving through Utah, along the Colorado River, this is the song that we played:

I thought of the great expanse of our country – the rivers and roads that seem to create a great distance. Our trip in the Delaware put rivers into perspective as a connecting force across time and space. Rivers are a way of bringing people, goods, and cultures together. This is a sentiment that has been lost with the ubiquity of railways and roads.

Our kayaking experience was enlightening. I now think of each stone that was deposited on the riverbank, shaped and eroded throughout its journey. I think of the monstrous rocks jutting from below the surface – Dave’s words: “BILLIONS of years!” echo in my mind. James Hutton’s discovery of Deep Time is tangible here. I think of the deer carcass that had deposited in the shallow waters along the river’s edge. I am humbled by the time that has past to bring the river to this point – all of the systems, lifecycles, evolution, erosion, deposition, journeys that have been a part of this river’s history. I am humbled by the fact that I can experience a brief glint of that mighty river’s story. I am just floating along the surface, being carried as the river pleases. I am a visitor here – one apparition along the river’s path. Will it remember me? What significance can I pose when confronted by such a perpetual force? For now, I will float on.

Gently Down the Stream

Kayaking down the Delaware awakened a part of me that I didn’t realize was missing and although the word childlike can sometimes have a negative connotation, the trip made me feel childlike. It seems almost ironic now that the radio station we listened to on our way down to the ramp played songs that I listened to when I was young. that I skipped rocks for the first time since I was in middle school.
Throughout the trip Aaron and I tried to break away from the group as much as possible and explore the things that caught our eye. We would zigzag across the river to go from one shore to the other while also trying to catch the rapids in the middle.
It was nice, because the Delaware is a protected river, that there were stretches of the river where the outside world was invisible but a there were reminders along the way, especially coming around a bend and seeing a huge concrete bridge hundreds of feet above us. Passing under the bridges reminded me of a book I am reading called Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig. Throughout the book Pirsig constantly talks about the value of taking a less traveled road. He commends them for being relaxing and enjoyable, especially the ones that have nothing but nature on either side. I shared Pirsigs disgust for highways and freeways, and preferred the water roadway that we learned the Delaware was historically used for.
At the end of the trip it was nice to drive back on the road along the river and to become a part of the cycle of noise; providing the sounds of traffic for everyone else who was enjoying the river just as I was only minutes before.