The Awesomeness Of First Discovery

All told I've lived in Oregon, specifically somewhere in the Willamette Valley, for about 40 years, give or take. Like most of Western Oregon, the Willamette Valley is green for most of the year and relatively temperate. During the Winter and Spring, it does rain here more than many other places, and when it's not rainy, it's probably cloudy.

The melding of man and nature, with the car bridge in the background, the power tower in the middle of the river, and then the water itself and uprooted tree. The latter made me wonder where it came from. When it floods, the rivers can bring trees downed from miles and miles away. Or it could have fallen right there.

However, so far this Spring, while cooler at times, it has also been sunnier. It was on one such day last week that I found myself down on the banks of the Willamette River.

This particular spot is part of a park where the main area is actually on the other side, with ball fields and play equipment. This side is mainly undeveloped gravel bank, which doesn't see a whole lot of people.

That's the main reason why I came to this spot.

Just a little bit of a change in the bank can create a different flow, where the water diverts even though it's hurrying on its way.

When I'm alone, which I was this day, I like to stay that way. Alone. Also, it was the first time I'd ever been down to the river here, even though I'd eaten lunch a couple of times in my car from the parking area. That meant there was the opportunity for what I'll refer to as "first discovery"—you might not be the first person ever to be there, but it's still your first time to discover it.

If I'm alone, I find first discovery to be at once peaceful and exciting. It's like I'm an explorer, and I don't know what I'm going to find around the next bend, or beyond the tree line, or past the brush. I get a chance to see things that I might not see otherwise because when there's people about, I can feel rushed, or nature, like flora and fauna, can be disturbed before I have a chance to observe them satisfactorily.

Caveman rock art, perhaps? The mud lines look drawn by human hands, but maybe it was the design left on the rock from a receding river. I think it looks like a dog with its hind end up and its mouth snarling. Or it could be a cockroach.

It's kind of mind boggling to think that some of this has existed for thousands of years, like the dirt and rock underneath the surface, and the river way and what's underneath its bed. At the same, time, there can be things that are pretty new. We can think of a river as being very old, but in fact, the water rushing through it is as new as it gets, and doesn't hang around long.

So, what you see one day won't be there for more than a few seconds if it's the water, but other things will remain long after you're gone.

This little ebb in the water flow went from clear to cloudy while the sun's rays sparkled over the disturbance.

Some things require timing to see, like the sunlight dancing on the ripples of the water. Other things seem to change their qualities with the changing light. What can seem welcoming and joyful in one light can feel foreboding and loathsome in another. A lot of my first discoveries are by chance, like this day was.

I doubt that a banquet was actually enjoyed at the same time as the bottle of beer this cap once adorned, but hey, who am I to judge?

_{All images by Glen Anthony Albrethsen. Images were taken with an iPhone 6s}

I saw a few people on the other side of the bank looking my way, but as I mentioned, there was no one on my side. At first, aside from the grass, trees and dirt, all I found were some kind of insects emerging from hardened shells. A little while later, I saw the footprints of a large animal, probably a dog, though I imagined and then quickly dispelled the possibility of it being something untamed—like a wolf.

Then, I found evidence of man. A lonely, rusting beer cap in the middle of the bank. A reminder that man can build, destroy, beautify and litter. Sometimes, one individual can do all of those things. Of all God's creatures, man possesses the ability to wield their will for good or ill, and reshape their surroundings.

I wouldn't call myself much of an outdoorsman, which is sad, considering where I've lived most of my life, but I wondered if this might not be a good place to cast a line. Regardless, it seemed like a place to just stop and reflect, commune with Nature and even Nature's God, and let my mind wander to more fanciful things.

It didn't last for very long, but it lasted long enough for me to feel rejuvenated and back in balance. Maybe another day I'll linger more, but sadly, next time will be without the sense of first discovery.