Last Saturday was International Day of Action for Rivers. I’ve written of Sweetheart Vivienne and my May 2007 walk along the Thames, which is not one of the world’s massive and powerful rivers, but is among the most famous nonetheless. Rivers, of course, vary in length, breadth, flow rate, contamination, accessibility, navigability, repute, et cetera. Though the Yarra, my hometown Melbourne’s river, is brown and thus the butt of ‘flowing-upside-down’ jokes, I’ve spent many a pleasant hour and day near or on it. My friend Peter Greenberg and I have cycled the length of the Yarra bike trail, and canoed from Hawthorn downriver to Williamstown. In Tasmania the Derwent, Tamar, Mersey, Meander, Esk and King come quickly to mind. Though I’ve seen only a miniscule number of the world’s rivers, their names are like flashcards to me. A river’s name instantly conjures visual images, sounds, smells. Rivers inspiring songs include the Mississippi, Shenandoah, Ohio, Volga and Thames. Returning to the Thames, on my first day in England, I think 23 March 1972, when walking along its bank I slipped and fell in. Only to my shins, but what an unforgettable welcome. Rivers are part of everyone’s life. Every single river is under threat. The International Day of Action for Rivers wasn’t a big deal in Australia. It should have been.
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