riverie

River names lead you on their own journeys. Reading up on the Androscoggin in Maine, a prime industrial river so poisoned by various mills that it was one of the sick waterways inspiring the Clean Water Act, I came across its trove of monikers, a wealth that points to its importance to many. It was variously called Amasagu'nteg, Amascongan, Ambrose Coggin, Ammeriscoggin, Ammoscoggin, Amos Coggin, Amoscommun, Anasagunticook, Anconganunticook, Andrews Coggin, Andros Coggan, Andros Coggin, Androscoggen, Andrus Coggin, Aumoughcaugen, Pescedona, and Ameriscoggin River. I'm left wondering if there was an Andrew Scoggin, and if he was someone like Johnny Appleseed.

In Rhode Island we're directly next to the Pawtuxet River, whose name means "little falls," and whose recovery from the fouling by jewelry and textiles manufacturers shows some success. Its mouth here by the bay is the culmination of the largest watershed in Rhode Island. We see egrets race down it just above the water's surface so fast they're gone before you're sure you've seen them. Last week for the first time I saw a hawk stalking in the river well from branches high in the leafless trees.

Yesterday while looking up the river I misspelled its name, leaving out the W, so I wound up reading about the Patuxet Indians and Squanto, also known as Tisquantum. Sad sad sad how his whole village, which was near Plymouth, was eradicated by smallpox in the course of a few years. When he finally returned from England where he'd been forced to go he found all his people had died. I'm not sure how he had the heart and longevity to teach the pilgrims to increase their food supply by fertilizing the crops with fish and eels. He died in 1622.

I'm still wondering what the Hudson was called previously. I'm sure it also had many names, like anything will if it lives long enough.