…into the same river, for the water into which you first stepped has flowed on.” — Herakleitos of Ephesus, trans. Guy Davenport.
I am thinking of my father today, his difficult love. As I work on an essay about his father, I begin to understand him differently. What was held close for reasons I’m trying to fathom, what was withheld, too, and for what reasons.
Herakleitos on the Yalakom River, on the Cowichan, on the far-seeing MacKenzie when you were young, the Red Deer, all those waters changing as we changed—and were ever the same. All roads leading to them, and away.
—from “Herakleitos on the Yalakom”, Euclid’s Orchard