Changing Perspectives Along the River

I begin my journey along the River Trail one particularly warm fall afternoon. I am enveloped by the abundant, glowing foliage of the trees, offering a peaceful wooded sanctuary. As I am rounding a corner in the trail, there is a sudden rustle of leaves as a deer scurries away before I get any closer. I can hear the rush of the Kokosing, a constant and enticing sound accompanying me as I am further immersed in the woods. Soon, I reach a slight fork in the path, leading to a clearing along the riverbank, offering a glimpse of the water below. My feet slide down the muddy patch of the riverbank as I awkwardly stumble onto the rocky shore. The sound of the Kokosing fills my ears as it moves by, its rapid waters running up and over the rocks in its path, undeterred. As I walk along the shore scattered with various rocks, sediments, and shells, I notice the light imprints of deer tracks, likely from the one that I saw earlier in its haste. I settle under the shady shelter of a tree hanging over the shore and take out my yellow field notebook from my bag, opening up to a fresh page. I look out over the surface of the water, clear enough to see the muddy ground and sediments below while also reflecting the bright, lush leaves of the surrounding trees, a pleasant and calming sight. I take out my pencil and start my observations.

I have always loved being by and near the water. Growing up in coastal Maine, the ocean and its rugged beaches were a constant source of adventure, discovery, and respite, always just a short walk away. When I moved to western Massachusetts I was sad to leave the ocean behind and its refreshing, salty breezes. However, it was not long before I discovered the Green River that flowed and meandered throughout the landscape of my new home, offering a peaceful, serene destination that I could access through the wooded trails that were not far from my house, an opportunity to be immersed in the natural world, to ground my thoughts. Therefore, when I first visited my spot along the Kokosing, the calm and steady flow of the water enveloping and invigorating my senses, I knew I had found a special place, a place that already felt familiar and reminded me of home.

Sunday became the day that I would head down to the riverside for observations. Despite being close to a 20-minute walk from my dorm, I looked forward to this time as a chance to observe and soak in the sounds of nature around me, a meditative routine and a welcomed break from studying in the library. By the river, my mind was at ease and my thoughts were clear as I watched the water pass by, a constant movement and site of activity. In one of my first sets of observations, I noted how the sound of the river flowing and rushing over the rocks was the most dominant sound at my spot, buffering the rumbling sounds of the nearby traffic heading along 229, while also peacefully accompanying the sweet songs of the birds or the buzzing hum of the cicadas. The river was a steady, strong, and serene force; always moving, ebbing, and flowing while I sat still on the riverside, watching it pass by. I often wondered: Where is it going? Where is it coming from? What is its history?

The Kokosing is an integral part of the Kenyon and Knox County landscape, carrying a rich, long history that extends back 20,000 years ago, when the Wisconsin glacier advanced across the Teas Valley (Doherty, 2014). During this transformative event of glacial advancement, sediments and soils were scraped up and trapped by the movement of the glacier; as the glacial ice melted, the water formed the river valley of the Kokosing (Doherty, 2014). This process is an example of erosion, where glacial movement altered the natural landscape. In the case of the Kokosing, the glaciated valley eroded (or “cut”) the landscape as it advanced, carrying sediments and soil debris with it (NSIDC, 2020). Furthermore, when a glacier retreats (or melts) it will deposit various sediments and soils that were picked up by its movement along the edge of the river (NSIDC, 2020).

Despite my limited experience and perspective of the river from just sitting on a small section of shore, the Kokosing is part of an extensive, interconnected system of rivers that stretches far beyond Knox County. The Kokosing stretches for a total of 57 miles, joining the Mohican River, which then flows into the Ohio River and the Mississippi River, eventually reaching all the way to the Gulf of Mexico (Doherty, 2014). Therefore, as I watch the water rushing by, despite its central force and presence, I am witnessing only a brief moment in time of the river’s long, winding journey beyond the geographic bounds of Kenyon. While the Kokosing has a seemingly permanent presence rooted within the landscape, the water flowing through is temporary and fleeting, always moving forward. I think about my time here at Kenyon; it seems like I was just arriving on campus for the first time as a young freshman, feeling both excited and nervous for this next stage in my life. Kenyon’s campus was new and unfamiliar, a place that I had yet to really explore. Now, nearly two and half years later, it is hard to believe I am almost halfway through my junior year; indeed, time has rapidly passed by. Much like the movement of a river, my journey throughout these past couple of years has ebbed, flowed, and meandered in many ways, both unexpected and unprecedented. However, despite the challenges, I continued to persist and move forward, like the sturdy path of the Kokosing.

Well into the month of October, most of my afternoons spent at my spot were relatively warm and sunny. Usually, I would sit under a big tree that extended over the riverside, its thick tangled branches and big oval-shaped leaves offering a nice shady canopy as I observed the movement of the river. After spending a while deliberating over various possibilities in my tree guide book, I was able to determine that this tree is likely an Eastern Cottonwood tree, which are common throughout Ohio and thrive in moist soils (Metro Parks, 2021). Since Eastern Cottonwoods will often grow along riverbanks, they can help stabilize river environments by reducing rates of erosion (NPS, 2018). Therefore, while the Kokosing plays a vital role in helping to sustain surrounding ecosystems, it is also supported and shaped by other living systems as well. Despite its powerful, dominating presence, the river is not an independent force, but rather is connected to a much broader ecological network and home that makes up the beautiful landscape around me.

During most of September, the tree was bursting with lush green leaves, holding onto the last bits of the summer weather. As the fall season progressed, the leaves started to change. After returning from fall break, I was welcomed by the warm, golden colors that were starting to decorate the leaves and overtake the green foliage. This sight filled me with excitement; finally, a familiar sign of Fall’s arrival! As I continued to return the following weeks for more observations, the leaves around and above me continued to become more vibrant with yellow, orange, and red, never failing to liven my spirits and lower my stress before the beginning of another busy week. However, even as the surrounding trees continued to exhibit seasonal change and the air become cooler, the river continued to be a constant, steady force flowing through the dynamic landscape.

As November approached, the vibrancy and glow of the leaves began to dwindle as the temperature dropped and the days became shorter. One day in early November, I decided to do my observations earlier in the morning. When I got down to the shore, I was met with the sad sight of bare tree branches, stripped of their leaves which had fallen to the ground, all brown and dried out, crunching underfoot. While there were still some trees throughout campus that were holding onto their last bits of bright foliage, the empty trees along the Kokosing were a stark reminder that yet another fall season and semester at Kenyon was coming to an end. Another reminder of how fast time here can pass. From routinely visiting my spot along the Kokosing this semester, I have learned a lot about such a central part of the Kenyon landscape; practicing different forms of mindful observation has enriched and expanded my perspective about the natural world around me as well as strengthened my sense of place here at Kenyon, and within the Ohio landscape. Whether it was during the last bits of summer, the full swing of the fall season, or the early days of winter, the river and its surroundings were a constant source of comfort, respite, inquiry, and inspiration. Even though another semester has run its course, I know that I will soon return to this special spot along the riverside, now a familiar place and feeling of home.