A Run Runs Through It

My county is a well-watered one, with ample precipitation, many springs, and a network of streams in all directions. Our local economy is largely based on the rich farmland and beautiful forests, and for these we can thank our abundant runs, rills, and rivers--or at least we could, if anyone knew their names.

And those names are so lyrical, full of simpler days and a history forgotten. Sharp Run. Black Creek. Honey Run. What happened to give Military Run its name? Were Hardy and Doughty creeks named for settlers or for their personalities? Few people remember the names themselves, if they ever knew them, much less the stories behind the names. If schoolchildren were to be made aware of the names of the streams, it just might spark their interest in learning about the history of the land they call home. They might learn that pioneer families like the Shrimplin brothers (of Shrimplin Creek) peacefully coexisted for a time with the Lenape under the famous Chief Killbuck (of Killbuck Creek) and realize that tolerance has deep roots in our community.

I've also long felt that teaching the local population the names of their watercourses would be a good first step towards taking a protective sense of ownership in the watershed. Having a name humanizes something, and you feel more responsible for its well-being. The only difference between a pet goose and a Christmas goose is that the entree was never called "Samantha" by anyone at the table. Similarly, I believe that folks who might casually toss a bottle of antifreeze or a broken toilet into "the creek" might think twice before despoiling the fresh waters of Salt Creek. If they know that this stream is Sand Run, and that one is Upper Sand Run, it might dawn on them that all of the waters of the county are interrelated, and what happens in one rivulet also affects the waters downstream, as well as the people who live nearby.

Our streams tend to be slow runners with broad floodplains, which helps account for the very productive bottomland farming in the area. Bottomland farmers, although they benefit from floods past, tend to find floods present and future a bit of a nuisance. This has led to a recent spate of streak dredging, with the spoil used to build up the banks into mini-levees. Although local flooding will surely be reduced by this method (with the unintended consequence of impoverishing the farmland), this dredging will mean that the river can carry more water at a faster pace, with potentially catastrophic results downstream. After all, the streams need and use their floodplains, and the demand for them is not lessened when the supply is reduced. Folks around here tend to be very companionable, and generally will not knowlingly foist their problems onto their unsuspecting neighbors. They simply don't understand enough about river systems to know that that's what they're doing. Maybe if they knew the names of the streams, they'd connect them, like names on a family tree, and would begin to understand.

A good first step would be to place a sign everywhere a road crosses a named creek. Hardly a novel concept, but one that has been ignored for all but the Killbuck Creek, the county's main river. It might cost a few thousand dollars, which is a large request in times of economic strife. Maybe I can get it added to the current stimulus bill?