Water Under The Bridge

Water is beautiful. I love bodies of water, rain, fog, even droplets. It fascinates me, really. The polarity of water, the tension that make it behave in such wonderful ways. I love what water can do to a landscape. I love what water can to to a rock.

This morning I woke up and used the toilet. It isn’t often I really appreciate this grandness of this contraption, but human waste is instantly washed away from from home and I don’t think about it again. I hop in a hot shower, the temperature easily manipulated by the turn of knob. Again, this is a luxury most in the world don’t have, but I imagine life without it.

The steam kettle tells me the fresh water is now boiling, ready to make coffee. I look out my window. There is a swimming pool I rarely use because the chlorine damages my hair, but I vow to stick my feet in after work. I expect the marine layer of fog that is causing drop of water to drip off the trees will be long gone by then.

I hope in my car. I never check the water. I have a new car with gauges that will tell me if anything isn’t exactly as it should be. A thermometer tells me my car is still cold, so I run the windshield wipers to remove the condensation from my windows.

I cross seven bridges on my way to work. A few are inconspicuous, merely road paved over waterways. I live near the coast and also some wetlands, so water is in view many times throughout my drive.

My commute takes me through and over the LA Harbor. I drive over the Desmond and Vincent St. Thomas bridges, both monumental. Next to the Desmond, a newer and even larger bridge is being built. Giant cargo ships fill the harbor, looking like toys boats stacked with colorful boxes. Huge cranes relieve them of their loads and fill trains and trucks with goods from around the world.


My classroom has seventeen faucets. This is because I teach science and each of the eight lab station has two faucets, my station has one. From my school, I can look over the harbor and also the Pacific Ocean. So much water. So much evidence of water. And yet my state is in drought.

I don’t go in the ocean very much. Sometimes I feel guilty about this and intention go stick my feet in, just like my pool. I guess I’m more of a terrestrial person, but at least I occasionally take a moment to consider water and how truly miraculous it is.

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