What a River is.


 I have lived in The River for my whole life. I have swum against current and with it. I have sheltered beneath tree roots as water from the sky has pelted the surface water of the river churning it into froth. I have floated in the river as the sunshine warmed it.
Many humans often enjoy some kind of relaxation involving water, whether it is sitting beside a body of water, swimming in it or some other kind of activity on it. I have often heard it said by humans that the constant ebb and flow of water is relaxing.
But no human can really understand a river.
Water is one of the least peaceful things on earth. Something that is constantly moving is the complete opposite of peaceful and calm.
Of course there are peaceful moments in The River; I’m not denying that in some circumstances water can make you feel peaceful, only that as a substance, water is not peaceful. I defy anyone to be constantly around water and not be inspired to do something.
Sometimes if you take the time to just listen to the sound The River makes as it filters through your gills it almost sounds as if The River is telling stories of all the things it has seen and will see.
Relaxing? Bah! Never let them tell you that water is restful, listen to what I have to say, I, a fish who has never been out of The River! Anyone who says The River is peaceful must be deaf, or simply not able to understand how restless a river really is.
The River is always moving. The slightest breath of air and it trembles and ripples. Even the water atoms of The River pulsate, their opposite charges attracting, able to rise through a tree, float through the air, busy sustaining life. How can you call that peaceful? A river which never rests.
Perhaps a dry riverbed is peaceful, in a stagnate kind of way, deep murky puddles rest. But it is not very comfortable; give me the intensity and restlessness of a full river any day! A dry riverbed is nothing more than a promise that the river will flow again and until that promise is fulfilled all of us in The River are unhappy. In a dry riverbed you will find an underlying urgent expectation, waiting for the water. And over The River bugs and birds get impatient and the reeds are never still.
The happiest time at a river, is when it is late afternoon. Golden light sings and the river urgently tells its best stories, spinning tales you have never heard. Birds slow down to listen, and we fish that swim down below awaken and dart through the stories that the river tells, making sure not to miss a single word.

This is what a river is.

~ Sincerely Augustus The Fish.

COMMENT BELOW WITH YOUR THOUGHTS ON WHETHER A RIVER IS PEACEFUL!

Advertisements

Who’s Sending Postcards to Augustus?

I was very flattered to receive some postcards from some children visiting the Age of Fishes Museum. Two were given to me by Warren when I interviewed him and the others came later.

Today I will reply to these postcards here on this blog.

The first is from Tiare:

Thank you Tiare for your lovely postcard, I am a Golden Perch fish. Some people call us Yellow Bellies or Goldens. It’s a good name for us because we are all a beautiful golden colour and I am the goldest of them all.

Here’s one from Hugo:

I am doing very well, thank you Hugo. I sincerely hope you are well too. Your question about ‘scientific pollution problems’ is very insightful. My river is generally very clean and pleasant, occasionally there is a little bit of rubbish in it, which is very annoying, but generally the humans are considerate. This may seem surprising, but it is true.

As I mentioned before I am a Golden Perch, there are many of us in the River and in other rivers around Australia.

I am a relatively young fish, 15 years old. Many Golden Perch live to be about 26 years old!

I am not sure exactly how long and wide I am because I have never measured myself, however I know that I am bigger in stature than most other fish my age.

Thank you for your message Hugo!

For these next ones I have included the original artwork on the front of the post cards by the children.

This first whimsical one is from Dhayne:

Dear Dhayne, thank you for taking the time to write to me.

Yours is altogether the most interesting question I have ever been asked.

I have never ridden a scooter. However sometimes I like to ride the current in the middle of the River for a while, but I don’t do that very often because although it is fun, it takes lots of effort to swim back home afterwards. So I suppose I would like riding a scooter, if I had legs.

Also I have never put a shirt on, fish don’t wear clothes, although I have a cousin who occasionally likes to wear flowers. She is very frivolous.

Preston sent in the next postcard and designed the great front artwork:

Thank you for your question Preston, I am not a tuna fish, I am a Golden Perch. I have met some tuna fish once or twice, they were tourists and needed directions.

I am not familiar with the fish and rods game, on your recommendation I may go up to the museum one day and try it for myself.

This next postcard and fantastic artwork comes from James:

Dear James, I am not sure if you are talking about the game Preston was talking about, or fishing rods used for fishing. If you mean the second one, I am not very fond of them. If you mean the first, I will have to let you know.

Thank you for your question. I am glad you enjoyed learning about the fossils at the museum, did you know they are all my ancestors?

Guurramali sends in the next great postcard:

Thank you Guurramali for your interesting message. I think you will be very surprised to learn just how many brothers and sisters I have. I was very surprised to learn how few children humans have in my interview with Warren earlier.

Golden Perch lay about half a million eggs at one time. Unfortunately not all of my siblings survived to adulthood, but a good many did. I don’t get to see them all as much as I would like, they are widely dispersed through the River. I would say I have at least 75 000 000 siblings. I also have many cousins.

The last amazing postcard is from Yiri:

Thank you for your question, Yiri. I enjoy lots of different foods, such as shrimps and small yabbies. I enjoy the occasional soft aquatic insect larvae. However I would have to say that my absolute favorite food is frogs.

I would like to heartily thank all the children for sending in their beautiful postcards and engaging questions. I must say I never expected it from humans, it is very nice to see that some humans at least, have an interest in fish. I know without a doubt that not all do, some even are supremely cruel towards us, but perhaps I was wrong in lumping all humans in the same boat together. It would seem that some even wish to swim in the river, inasmuch co-existing peacefully with fish. There is nothing I would wish for more.

For anyone else, of any age, who would like to send me a postcard please address it to:
Augustus
PO Box 360
c/o Age of Fishes Museum
Canowindra NSW 2804

Once again, thank you very much for your kind postcards! Comment below with what you thought about this post and any postcard stories you may have!

~ Sincerely Augustus The Fish.

Interviewing Warren Keedle, Manager of the Age of Fishes Museum.

I am a humble fish. 

I am willing to acknowledge when I do not know all the facts and recently I realized that I may not know all the facts about humans. 

Indeed in the last few weeks my interactions with them and the Age of Fishes museum I have come to see that they may not be ruthless fish killing machines as I and many other fish have been taught to believe.

Because of this I invited Warren Keedle, the manager of the museum to come down to my river for an interview. We met by the swinging bridge over the Belubula river with Zoe Urquhart there as transcriber and photographer. Below is the transcript of our conversation. 

Augustus: Thank you for coming down here for my interview.

Warren: You’re very welcome. Thank you for inviting me.

Augustus: Shall we get right to it? My first question is what exactly do you hope to achieve with the Age of Fishes Museum?

Warren: I suppose the whole idea is to showcase the fossil history and show how important the Devonian fish are to life on earth today.

Augustus: You’ve got a lot of ancient fish at the museum, I’m curious to know what you’ve learnt about fish so far.

Warren: I’ve learnt that the diversity of fish on the planet is much greater, in history too, over past and present,  much greater than I had known. The adaptability of fish to mold to their environment is really, really strong, and also their ability to fit into their ecosystem. For example the antiarchs, the armored fish that used to be here, they don’t exist anymore, that branch of fish has died out, so you gotta ask the questions, why did they die out? Why aren’t they still here? And these are the things that the fossil record and the people who interpret them are trying to answer. But there is no definitive answer because no one knows for sure. Also wherever there is water there is a species of fish specifically suited to that kind of water. So if there’s a tiny little river there’s a fish suited to that ecosystem, if there’s a massive river they live in that one, they manage to fit in everywhere, coral reef, deep sea, really deep, on the surface, the whole lot, there’s fish everywhere. Humans can’t do that. We’re not as diverse. The difference is we don’t change ourselves to suit the environment; we change the environment to suit us. That’s a big one. Fish don’t do that. Not many animals do that, but humans do, and that’s to our detriment I suppose.

Augustus: It would seem so. It would appear you have learnt many facts and figures about fish, but what have you learnt about fishes’ thoughts and feelings?

Warren: I suppose we’ve learnt that we should consider it from your point of view as well, and we don’t, we didn’t. We are prepared to find out what you want, what you would like us to do, to answer your questions and to make things work from your point of view as well. Because we both have different points of view, you’re looking up from in the river and we’re standing on the banks looking down, so to have better communication is the aim.

Augustus: A laudable aim. I would like now to get to know you and all humans a little better. Do you have a family or are humans individually independent?

Warren: I have a family, we have five kids.

Augustus: In comparison to the average fish, that’s not very many.

Warren: Human kids are hard work.

Augustus: In what way?

Warren: We tend to keep them close to us for a long time, up to 20 years or longer.

Augustus: And why is that?

Warren: They’re not as adaptable as fish, they don’t know how to do things, we have to look after them for a lot longer, and teach them how to survive for a lot longer than fish do.

Augustus: Are you saying that humans are not able to walk or feed themselves from birth, I find that very strange. 

Warren: No totally helpless for quite a long time.

Augustus: Do they at least know how to eat by themselves?

Warren: No you have to teach them that as well.

Augustus: So on average how long would it take a human to learn to do these things?

Warren: It depends on the individual. From a scientific point of view the human brain is large, yet the human body cannot sustain the growth of that brain beyond 9 months. What happens in the animal kingdom, is that an animal’s brain develops in the womb, it’s much more developed than a human baby when it’s born, so when an animal is born it knows how to walk, it knows how to run, those sort of things, already. But with humans, we spend a long time, because of the size of the brain. Because it’s all about the brain size, because if the head gets too big, it’s impossible to give birth, that’s our physical structure. So our physical structure limitation is balanced with the size of our brain. We have to get the baby out and then let the brain develop. Which is the opposite with fish, fish and most animals come out with a very highly developed brain, humans do not. For instance, how smart where you when you were born?

Augustus: I was a lot smarter than most fish my age; I suppose you could say I was a genius.

Warren: See, that doesn’t happen with humans.

Augustus: I see. So where do you live with your family, at the museum?

Warren: No. we live in a house, about 20 kilometers from the museum, which is about 400 laps between the two bridges in Canowindra. And I drive to work every day, in a car. 

Augustus: I have never understood that, if you have legs and are able to walk around so easily, why persist in packing yourselves into cars?

Warren: Because humans are impatient and it would take too long to walk, about four hours, spend eight hours at work and then another four hours to get back. 

Augustus: Four hours to spend in contemplative silence admiring the nature around you doesn’t sound unbearable. 

Warren: See I can understand that, but I have five children, and it doesn’t happen very often, I would like it to.

Augustus: Perhaps that is something most humans should do more of. On to the next question. Do you have any plans for world domination?

Warren: No. no the megalomaniac side of me is gone. 

Augustus: I would assume that you would say that even if you did.

Warren: Oh, I see, so what you’re saying is that you believe I have plans for world domination, and all humans do. 

Augustus: It seems reasonable to assume. 

Warren: No I think most humans are happy if they can control their surroundings, immediate surroundings, not the whole thing. It’s too complicated.

Augustus: I assumed humans felt in control at all times.

Warren: No, definitely not, humans make lots of mistakes. 

Augustus: Really? (Like fishing…) 

Warren: Well there’s a saying which is that, ‘you’re only human’ and that means you make mistakes. 

Augustus: Fascinating. I don’t think there is a fish equivalent of that saying. I have never heard anyone say ‘you’re only a fish’. My next question has to do with the atrocity of mass fish genocide by humans in many oceans. What is your stand on that?

Warren: Disgusting. There was a show on TV that I was watching, and it was just sickening. They were looking for prawns and they were pulling up trawler loads of fish and just letting them die on deck and then shoveling them back into the water. I turned it off, I couldn’t’ watch it. So not all humans think that way. 

Augustus: What then makes some humans feel that way, surely they must see how wrong it is? 

Warren: Money. Money is an abstract concept of worth and a difficult argument to discuss. It’s a difficult concept to understand.

Augustus: Indeed, I have never really understood the benefit of money. Well after our conversation I seem to feel that there are a lot of problems here that this blog is going to help.  

Warren: Yes, because this will make people think about your point of view, all fishes’ point of view and take that into consideration when making their decisions. I’m sure if a trawler pulled up a load of fish and one of them started talking to them saying, ‘that’s not very nice, I don’t think you should be doing that,’ I think that would make a big difference. And this is a way to do that. 

Augustus: Yes I feel it will be most beneficial. And I daresay that it will inform fish more on humans as well, I am not too proud to admit that I have learned many things I had not previously known in our conversation. 

Warren: Well there you go; if it can enlighten fish and humans at the same time then it’s doing a good thing.

Augustus: Thank you for taking the time to come down to the river for this little chat, I look forward to our future interactions.

Warren: Thank you for having me! If it’s ok with you next time I would like to conduct an interview with you, I am sure your opinions will be very interesting.

Augustus: Thank sounds like a very good idea.

Warren: Great! By the way, these postcards came for you from some of the kids visiting the AoF Museum.

Augustus: For me? How strange, thank you very much.

Receiving the postcards
Receiving the postcards from Warren after the interview,
if I look surprised it’s because I am!
The postcards were indeed for me, and the children who wrote them seem to be very intelligent, judging by the questions written in them, I will answer them in my next blog post.

In the meantime you may write in the comments what you thought of my interview and also what you would like Warren to ask me, when he interviews me in the near future.

Swimming with an Ancient Fish.

As I was thinking about what to say about your latest project in my river, I was finding it very hard to know what to say, which is a very odd circumstance for me.
I admit that I have always been rather intelligent; however I never pretended to be very interested in humans’ doings and know very little about them. If, on the other fin, you wanted to know anything at all about my river or my opinions on anything else I would have ample supply of them!
But as only a mere, lowly fish I find it hard to understand what you mean by ‘3D animated image’ and ‘will be projected into the Belubula River’ and harder still to be called on to comment on. But never let it be said that Augustus has ever been at a complete loss for something to say!
I will address the general idea of it, which sounds fascinating. As you told me;
“The long extinct Devonian fish will once again swim in the local river.”

Ever since I was a young fishling (none of this fry business, which I find extremely poor taste.) I have wished that I could talk to fish from past generations. To compare notes, as you say. You see fish have always passed on certain traditions to our young, even fish like me who don’t live in schools. So I would love to know how close our traditions today are to the fishes of ancient times.
Now I am told that this long cherished dream will become reality! This fish from long, long ago will be swimming again in his river, my river. I guess you humans are good for some things after all. (And very bad for others, but let’s not go into that yet.)

I am awaiting the event with great expectations. Some questions I have in mind are:
  • Has the river changed much since your time?
  •  Have we always lived here or did some of our ancestors come from a different place?
  •  Do you remember the start of the tradition of meeting every fourth Monday night for a family gathering? Why did we start doing that? (Silly idea if you ask me, we’re  splashing into each other all the time anyway.)
  • What was your favourite food? Are the myths true about a certain kind of delicious insect that used to be here in the thousands, long since extinct?
Those will do for a start, although I suppose once we start talking we’ll never stop! Yellow Bellies are known for having lots to say. At least, my branch of the family is.
So you may not see me at the river next Monday night (I like to keep a low profile around humans) but I’ll be there, watching him swim the river once again and having a little chat.
By the way, I noticed that it is possible for all my readers to add their comments to mine below this, so if any of you (humans or fish) can think of any further questions for me to ask my ancestor on Monday, I beg you to let me know below and I will give them my consideration!

A Strange Invitation.

I was having a nice snooze in the current when I heard about this; I was abruptly awakened by a noisy magpie squawking about something.

Magpies aren’t often known to eat fish so I stuck my head out of the water to see what he was fussing about, since I couldn’t sleep anyway with that inconsiderate racket.

“The humans at the fish museum want a fish to write a blog post for them to put on the internet!” squawked the magpie as soon as I surfaced, jumping around on one leg.

I eyed him bemusedly.

“A… what?” I asked. My unusually high intellect wasn’t working quite as well as usual, just having woken up so rudely and all.

“A blog post! You know, writing about a topic on the internet!”

“Riiight. And are these weird shenanigans any reason to wake me up from a most enjoyable rest?”

“I haven’t any idea what you just said but I need to find a fish to write about science week for the humans!” said the magpie flapping its wings impatiently. “Hey! You’re a fish, (bright creature) you can do it!”

“I? I want no dealings with humans, bloodthirsty creatures!” (No offence).

“Come on!” Said the magpie, eyeing off a bug passing by, “you talk good; I bet you’d have lots to say! Besides I haven’t got all day.” He pounced on the bug and snapped it down. Disgusting.

Although he did have a point, I am a fish with lots to say. I must admit I have not always admired humans. Most fish are terrified of humans. I myself have always been slightly nervous of them. Ordinarily the only time a human wants to see a fish is at lunch time. Clearly something must be done. Someone must speak out.

So with this in mind I accepted your offer to discuss various things with you on your ‘blog’. To give fish everywhere a voice.

Allow me to introduce myself; I am Augustus.