Further Eno River Explorations

For a while, I’ve been wanting to visit some new hiking spots. I’m already in the habit of visiting a few parks along the Eno River, so it only made sense to continue to branch out in that direction. I’ve also recently been reading about rivers in medieval England, and it’s interesting to note that they were considered some of the best assets to the traveler in unfamiliar territory because 1) they provide a constant source of fresh water, 2) they lead to the ocean when followed far enough, and 3) they frequently adjoin the sites of towns and cities. For these reasons and many others, medieval people honored and valued rivers in a way that’s largely been forgotten. Nevertheless rivers are indispensable and deserve to be honored for their contributions. For my part, visiting the Eno on a regular basis is one way in which I do that.

One of the best views of the Eno that I managed to capture was this shot near Fews Ford, facing south near a small cataract. There were people wading in the river in the distance, as you can see if you look closely. They were clearly enjoying themselves, and even though I didn’t join them due to my lack of swimming trunks, I was happy to see such simple communion between people and the river.

This is the small cataract near Fews Ford that I mentioned. It’s not very large, but it adds greatly to the ambiance of the area. It also helps to oxygenate the water, keeping it from becoming stagnant and inhospitable.

Near the southern entrance to Eno River State Park is this picturesque flight of stairs leading from the riverbank to an adjoining trail. It wasn’t the steadiest structure that I’ve ever crossed, but it was full of character and retained a sense of the contour of the land that would’ve been absent if it’d simply been a concrete eyesore.

This bench which I found near the southern extent of the park was undoubtedly one of the most artistic I’ve ever seen. From behind it looked to be nothing more than a reconnoitered log which had been hoisted on stilts. From the front it looked as if it could’ve been a piece of modern art, loosely mimicking the contours of a woman resting on her side or possibly suggesting the shape of a beached fish with his mouth open to the right. In either case, it beat any metal-and-plastic bench I’ve ever seen.

Between the artistic bench and Fews Ford, there’s a suspension bridge running over the Eno from east to west. I didn’t have enough time to go exploring in that direction when I was there since it was already near dusk, but I did see a small family crossing it with children in tow. I have no doubt the kids in this group will remember that bridge for many years to come, and I was happy to see such excitement over an experience in nature which children of a slightly older age would probably have been too disaffected to appreciate.

This was one of my last shots at Eno River State Park. The hour was rapidly approaching sunset, and I didn’t have much time before I had to leave. The light was failing, but there was just enough to illuminate this bucolic stretch of water south of Fews Ford. I took the moment to kneel in order to get a better angle on the river, and in the process I found myself saying a mental thank you to the river for an experience that I never would’ve had without it.

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Echoes of History

In July I made my monthly visit to the Eno Riverwalk. I paid special attention to the remains of the Saponi Nation’s traditional dwelling, sitting in a field where the structure was displayed some years ago to demonstrate aspects of Saponi culture. (The Saponi are an indigenous nation who once lived in this region but have been largely dispossessed and displaced.) I wasn’t able to see the dwelling when it was on site, but I do admire the log-posts that still stand. They’re silent reminders that there was once a time when the land was regarded not merely as a resource to be exploited but as the sacred and indispensable source of all life.

Heading west, I passed under the Exchange Bridge, which in its own way stands as a monument to the greed of colonizers who dispossessed the original inhabitants of this land, such as the Saponi. Acting primarily as a commercial thoroughfare which facilitates the pollution and degradation of the land, the bridge is a stark reminder of how much things have changed since the time when Hillsborough was founded. For the record I love the town of Hillsborough, but the history of this town and of this culture is covered in the blood and pain of native people, who are largely invisible to the casual observer.

Beyond the Exchange Bridge is one of my favorite views of the Eno. It’s easy to forget about all the history that resides in a place like this when looking at a scene so peaceful and beautiful. I wonder sometimes how much the river has changed over the course of history and how much more it will change in the future. I want the river to be healthy and whole for as long as water runs in this world, but there are so many forces in our culture that threaten the health of rivers and humans alike. I don’t know if the river will be healthy in the future. However I do know that if we want to preserve human health in the future, we have to preserve the health of our rivers and watersheds today.

Another result of the colonization of this land is the proliferation of opportunistic species such as the white-tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus), which have become overabundant in the absence of keystone species such as the mountain lion and black bear, which were once far more prevalent in this region. I love these deer, but the damage they can do to vegetation and forests is a reminder that the history of colonization is around us at all times, even when we can’t see the people who originally lived in this land centuries ago.