Summer on the River

I love the summer season. Most people do. There’s much time spent outside, at the beach, lake, parks, you name it. For us, it’s time on the Potomac River or, as the Algonquian tribe named it, “Patawomke” meaning “River of Swans.” It is a favorite place for our family. We sit and enjoy its majestic comings and goings as it flows with the tides. When a storm tracks down the river on the Maryland side of the shoreline, we sit on our porch to behold an impressive parade of flashing lightning accompanied by thunder, booming like a rolling artillery barrage. 

In more peaceful moments we tend to our garden or fish off of the pier, a pleasant structure jutting into the Potomac that I will be rebuilding this very weekend. Yes, sometimes the river claims things like piers when there are especially unusual weather events, thankfully an infrequent occurrence.

But one of my favorite pastimes is sitting at my desk inside looking out over the Potomac as I craft my written works. I wrote Desert Redleg in large part at the river. So too my latest book about my experience as a U.S. Army officer who was seconded for a year as a United Nations peacekeeper in Syria and in southern Lebanon. (For an unarmed peacekeeper, Southern Lebanon was the “Wild West” without a good saloon.) That book is largely finished, and the reviewers have recommended it for final publication. I’m in the process of making some small edits this week—between pier work—and it will be in formal editing this summer by my publisher who has scheduled it for release in early 2023. 

I was inspired when I occasionally looked up from my writing to behold the timeless nature of the Potomac, whether flowing placidly, or tumbling to-and-fro capped with the white foam of wind-swept waves. It had an impact on my thinking, reminding me that some things are timeless and maybe, just maybe, I can capture those ideas in what I write. 

It is also a precious resource for Virginia, that “Patawomke.” Once it was teeming with oysters, crabs, and fish of many sorts. It doesn’t now, but it’s on the march back. Truly one of the great honors I had as a legislator was to serve on the Chesapeake Bay Commission, a Federally chartered organization that includes Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Virginia in a cooperative effort to restore the Bay and its tributaries. My heart was in that work. When I chaired the commission, I always kept a keen eye on how we restore our waters responsibly, mindful that the resource—a gift of God—was granted to us for our use, enjoyment, and harvesting. It is not a museum piece to be shut away behind a glass wall. But as a gift of God, we incur a responsibility to keep it in good order for us all.

I am reminded of that when I watch our grandson Isaac fish off the pier, soon on a newer version of that platform. He is fascinated with fishing. It’s his generation’s inheritance to fish there. We can now swim in it, given the remarkable improvements made in removing and reducing the nitrogen, phosphorus, and sediment that chokes the life out of the river. It is our Potomac to enjoy. Early in the morning, I sip my coffee on the porch and watch Virginia and Maryland watermen put out or empty their crab pots to make a living and secure prosperity for their families and communities. It’s their Potomac to harvest. And of course, it’s a joy to see boaters plying the waters for a day out on the river or to pull skiers or surfboarders who are having a whale of a time. It’s their Potomac for fun—and safe—recreation. 

I think it’s important to remind ourselves that God has given us great, but finite resources and we need to maintain them with care, so that there will be a multiplicity of uses from which we are able to benefit personally, recreationally, and economically. We should not forget that and always use our waters, trails and parks, and hunt wildlife in a responsible manner. 

Being a conservative, I am mindful that the very word conservation is embedded in a world view I hold dear; to conserve what is good for its good use in a good manner. And I hope we will, because I hope to see young Isaac, his sister Abby, and their cousins Millie, Arthur, and George play near and in that River of Swans for many years to come. Besides, I have more writing to do. The Potomac is mine to draw from for inspiration. 

Have a great summer.

Share on Facebook

Tweet

Follow us