The sun rises low over the Blue Ridge Mountains. I am crouched down by the waters edge, on a flat rock that is smoother than my skin from years of water charming out its roughness. The heat from the rising light is felt on my face as I rinse it in the rushing stream. The water level is higher than normal due to the hurricane that passed through two days prior, but my feet rest firmly on the rock and the brisk chill of the water awakens me.
I catch myself as I almost dip my toothbrush into the water as I momentarily lost sight of my actions in the beauty of the sun sweeping through the fog that helped these mountains gain their name by providing the blue allusion. The water seems so fresh and pure that if I didn’t know better I would believe that it was free of bacteria and pollutants.
A book I read in college sweeps across my memory as I now brush my teeth with purified water from my dromedary bag. The book, written by a woman who had cancer in her early twenties, is about her journey to find the cause of her disease, as it was not prevalent in her family; actually it wasn’t even present in her family. She uncovered gruesome studies about the water in her childhood town. Water much like the cool mountain stream that slowly numbs my toes as they balance my body upon the smooth rock. The water she played in and drank as a child had become so polluted that it resulted in cancer among her and other women that grew up there. She spoke of the everyday pollutants in our water, and of the effects it has on breast milk that so many women pass so lovingly onto their children. I remember reading her book and fearing that someday my child would drink from my breast and be infected with chemicals because of my body. The author, who breast-feeds all of her children, through her research still promises that breast milk is the healthiest nutrients we can pass along to the small wonders that our bodies will create.
As I finish brushing my teeth in the mountain stream, I wonder how long it will be before I will have a child, and then I wonder if by then the water I drink will be chemical and pollutant free. The sun has fully risen and my feet are beginning to feel hot, as they have long since passed the feeling of cold. I stay perched upon the smooth skin of the rock a few moments longer and sadly accept that my breast milk will still be toxic, but maybe if I make a conscious effort in my life to aid in environmental change, just maybe, my great-granddaughters will have healthy breast milk to feed their children and our streams will once again be safe.
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