A River in the High Ardeche

The Ardeche region of France is full of twisting mountain roads with vertiginous views across a wild terrain and vertical drops of hundreds of feet. The occasionally glimpsed village sits nestled on the peaks like a jewel set amid the rocks and pine forests, aloof and independent of the rest of the world. Driving here is both frightening and ecstatic--one misturn on the hairpin twists sans guardrails and one plummets to certain destruction --yet there is also a sense of freedom akin to weightlessness. It is an intense voyage and I was always glad to find a respite from this sensation of unearned flight by traveling down into the meandering river beds that snake through these mountains. Here is solid ground and peace, enveloped among the stones that bear the mark of centuries of moving water. I spent the night in one particularly beautiful valley and in the morning, wading in the midst of round boulders and clear pools I began a sort of moving meditation on the fascinating nature of water.

 

I became particularly engrossed by the patterns made by the water as it moved among the stones, braiding over itself, forming concentric rings, refracting sunlight. Everywhere there was evidence of energy and an organization of this strange form/no form that had sculpted the valley

 

Mid photo above water striders balance on the surface tension.

 

Adding to the magical aura of this place, the wildlife seemed amazingly unafraid. I could gently stroke the dragonflies resting on the warm stones and they didn't stir until they were finished sunbathing. Lizards came and went in the sand at my feet. I crouched by a spider in her moisture beaded web mid stream among the rocks and water spray...

 

And more than once an image of my presence became entangled in the water's story.