Natural history

When I build a cairn, gravity and balance are all that really matter. Of course, my mind and body are also somewhat involved in the process, as well.

The levee along the Kaw River is faced with large limestone boulders. There was once a vast sea in these parts many ages ago. The settling of the skeletal remains of marine organisms made sedimentary limestone beds over time.

Hard rock.

Then, the earth continued to change over time. Rising mountains to the west eventually eroded away with tiny bits of rock, weathering, and then working their way ever downward, deeply burying the beds of limestone.

Prairie.

Soil and grasses. Other plants and animals. A sea of grasses waving in the wind where once had  waved the waters of an inland sea.

And on the prairie, a river begins to form as rain falls down on slightly uneven ground in the heartland of a continent. Gravity pulls each molecule of water down and down towards the Gulf. Freshets become creeks. Creeks become a river. And a prairie river will, over time, carve a winding path across the relatively horizontal landscape, the flowing current continually braiding and rebraiding itself from one mud bed and sand bar to another.

Water.

The river water flows on and on down to the ocean. The earth. Rainfall. A watershed. A river.

Humans.

After the flood of 1951 along the Kaw River, the levee was built to try to contain the river along the path where I now so often walk. Limestone was at hand. And so, things are the same and not the same.

Time.

But over time, even in this time, some things remain fundamental – like the sun and a river and rocks.

Gravity and balance.

I suppose that the question might be asked why anyone should bother to build a cairn along a river at all – a small stack of Kansas limestone rocks taken from the bed of an ancient sea to be carefully balanced one on top of the other, upwards towards the sky, upwards against the inexorable pull of gravity.

Well, let’s just say for now that it is merely instinct. Human instinct. After all, humans have been building cairns in places where they have found themselves for a long, long time. Perhaps not as long as there have been rivers. Perhaps not with limestone. But it can be said that for a long, long time, human beings have built cairns.

You could ask the question about any particular cairn that you might see: why is that here? You could ask me the same question. Why you? Why here? Why now? One answer - one that is almost no answer at all is the that one I will offer: I was here - with some small measure of gratitude.

Balance. Gravity. A moment in time.

And it’s not just me. Others are building cairns along this river. You can see them sometimes. And then they’re gone. Humans build and humans knock down. Or maybe the earth shifts just enough that the rocks just fall down as rocks will fall. Or it’s the wind. Or the rain. The forces that with gravity that have shaped the world all around us. It’s still about time.

But sometimes you will see a simple human striving for balance within gravity’s inexorable pulling.

Cairn.