of the different rates of speed of currents from the surface of the water to the bottom of the different cross slants between the surface and the bottom of the different currents on the surface of the waters of the different currents on the bed of the rivers of the different depths of the rivers of the different shapes of the hills covered by the waters of the different shapes of the hills uncovered by the waters where the water is swift at the bottom and not above where the water is slow at the bottom and swift above where it is slow below and above and swift in the middle where the water in the rivers stretches itself out and where it contracts where it bends and where it straightens itself of the different slants in the descents of the water
from Leonardo da Vinci’s notebooks*
“Water is lubricant to other places; it catalyzes memory and aspiration. (Time has no direction near water)”–roni horn, artist
There was a media spray a while back about how researchers were finding concentrations of anti-depressants, birth control hormones, anti-seizure drugs, you name it, in the drinking water supply. Off and on, for a couple of weeks, I fretted about this and tried to figure out how this could happen. I realize it has to do with the human animal, with urine, with oceans and rivers, flushing toilets, and municipal water treatment plants. I talked to a few of my friends, they seemed to understand as little about how the U.S. water supply is recycled and processed as I do.
There’s a water treatment plant not far from where I live. I drive by sometimes on the way to someplace else. The plant is right there in plain view, and it’s even attractive from an engineering standpoint. It looks like a cross between a mini-golf course, a fish hatchery, and the town pool. There is a system of lagoons, big flat boxes full of dark water, some black netting, a set of nicely painted water tanks.
It was flooded during the hurricane this fall and we lost our water for a while. The folks at the water company were very outgoing and friendly, they left me many apologetic voicemails and later sent me a long letter about exactly what happened, explaining how the houses at the tops of hills were worse off than houses at the bottom. (So that happens sometimes.)
They really are my friends at the water plant. I am sure if I went over there, they would happily give me a tour. And explain how everything works. (as if I really want to know . . .)