From drops to oceans

Water has always held a profound fascination for human beings: it is both a fundamental element of life and a sea abyss in which to lose oneself, a symbol of purification and rebirth, and something mysterious, fundamentally elusive by virtue of its very nature as a liquid. For Western culture, thought, and art, water has always been the starting point. "The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters," recounts one of the opening verses of the biblical Genesis. And "water is the beginning of all things," stated the Greek Thales, the father of philosophy, over 2,500 years ago. For the ancient Greeks, Oceanus was the deity preceding the Olympian gods, before Zeus and Aphrodite, before Odysseus and the Trojan War, before history. Oceanus was water in constant motion, coming from nothing and going to nothing, enveloping heaven and earth and extending from the Sun to the darkness of the underworld. Water is thus interpreted as a physical divide between two worlds, the earthly and the liquid, but also a symbolic one, between salvation and perdition. At the same time, it is a gateway that connects them, unites them, and confuses them.

Then there's the concrete aspect of water, especially in times like ours of global warming. When discussing water and its control, it's necessary to look at the global context in which we live: our planet is experiencing a major climate crisis, and environmental transformations are decisively impacting water resources. Desertification is on the rise in some areas of the world, and providing water to populations is becoming increasingly difficult and essential. Perhaps there's something to be learned from the verses of a great nineteenth-century poet, Emily Dickinson, who wrote that "water is taught by thirst." In short, by the most basic need of all.

Yet, despite all this imagery surrounding water and all this emphasis on its fundamentality to our lives, we almost never stop to observe it, almost never pay attention to how it shapes and transforms the world around us. In Reading Water (Altrecose, 2026, pp. 396, also available as an e-book. Translated by Sara Barbera and Sharon L. Wood), the English writer and explorer Tristan Gooley offers us a guide to understanding this element, fundamental to life, from drops to oceans. Gooley focuses on rivers, lakes, rushing mountain streams, boundless seas, but also puddles and drops of water, all united by the same element. And he observes them using the "natural orientation" method that has made him a guarantee of clarity in landscape science narratives.

As Gooley writes in the book: "You can look at the same body of water, day after day, for a whole year, and never see it the same twice. How can something so seemingly uniform actually be so different? And what do the differences we notice in water from one day to the next, from one place to the next, mean? This book will discuss the physical clues—the marks, patterns, and designs—to look for in water, whether it's a small puddle or the vast ocean we gaze upon from the shore. This is natural orientation: analyzing, one by one, the elements a hiker encounters along the way. The ground, the sky, the waters, the plants, and the animals are treated individually, allowing everyone to become familiar with the clues they offer. From the wadis of Oman to the ice of the Arctic, Gooley teaches a practical method to transform every reader into an expert on waves, jets, and waterfalls." "Reading water," understanding its substance, recognizing its movements, is therefore not only essential for those who undertake great ocean crossings or design bridges, but also fascinating and surprising for those who, like all of us, are aroused by curiosity in the shower or along city rivers. Or for those who will be aroused by reading this book.