Yesterday I sat at a riverbank, content to watch the water
slide by. A crane waded in the middle
near a tiny atoll, taking patient stabs at elusive fish with its bill. Four Canada geese endeavored to cross
and, as I wondered why they didn’t just fly over, I swore the largest (mother? father?) led this spring’s fledglings in an
effort to teach them how to navigate the current.
After that bucolic consideration, I realized how the word current is spelled and pronounced the
same whether we’re talking about the movement of air and water or referring to
our present, as in a “current situation”.
The cause is likely coincidental, especially given the many English
words originated from Latin or more modern languages. The two meanings probably have very different
derivations. Still, I like the
implication. Life, however stagnant our
place in it might feel, is fluid, able to change course around whatever
obstacles emerge (my fervent wish for those in troubled times).
