The Fourth River

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Tributaries: “Lily Watch”

By on October 4, 2017

By Lisa Hammond   Another year we greet summer, spider lilies waking in the Catawba every May, this time blooming slow, a cool April. We follow the lily watch, high water warnings, papers reporting clumps washed upstream, rare but still

Tributaries: “I Had to Give You Back to the Sea”

By on September 27, 2017

By Devon Balwit       *This poem was written in response to the above artwork. I Just Had to Give You Back to the Sea 30×40″, mixed media on gallery canvas Lorette C. Luzajic www.mixedupmedia.ca ** Devon Balwit writes

Tributaries: “We are the Ocean”

By on September 20, 2017

By Urvashi Bahuguna   A whale fall is the carcass of a whale that has fallen to the ocean floor, & that sometimes creates complex, localized ecosystems supporting deep sea life.​   ​We have learned to hold the drift ​ in our jaws, seaweed ​breathing from a blowhole. We are the ocean trying one​ hand at perpetuity.

Tributaries: “Practical Augury”

By on September 13, 2017

By Carrie Laben   It’s one of the most laid-back forms of fortune telling. No special potions or smokes required, no messy entrails, no cards to shuffle and no tea cups to rinse. Just tip your head back and look

Tributaries: “The Snapping Turtle”

By on September 6, 2017

By Karen J. Weyant   The road near Benson Pond is always littered with roadkill. Twisted deer legs lie tangled in weeds, dead raccoons are knotted in cattails, and mounds of porcupine quills puncture the air. There’s matted fur and

Announcing Tributaries: The New Nature

By on September 1, 2017

A year ago we launched Tributaries, a weekly web series that “showcases the brief and the inspiring, that which sustains us and takes us through unexpected courses.” We’re proud of the work that has found its way onto our front

Tributaries: “Lake Michigan Boys”

By on August 30, 2017

 By Allen Weber   Winter never leaves suddenly. Creeping temperatures coax groans from the thickest ice, and sometimes a cocksure boy wanders too far from shore— makes an island of himself. Incensed by indecision, The rest wish it were us

Tributaries: “Willow Grove, Acrostic”

By on August 23, 2017

By Abigail Wang   Walls streaked in tape was how we left it on the last day. A father’s pride is Immutable, but at six, I swore I would never do the same when I had children, Letting them plaster

Tributaries: “Beaver as Fairy Drag Mother”

By on August 16, 2017

By Matty Layne Glasgow   The trees are queer magic, just look at them. Branches arch to sky like soft-wristed arms, hands twirl overhead doing the leafshutter in the evening breeze. I watch you girdle a willow on the river’s

Tributaries: “Diagnostics”

By on August 9, 2017

By Lora Rivera   Your eyes go bright, green as creosote. “This here’s a good placement. Lots of surface area. Solid rock.” Tap-tap. “Now this…” Tock-tock. “Hollow,” I mutter. Nuts, cams, anchors: Sport climbing’s one thing. This’ll be my first