Patience is the most important virtue. If I try to cut too large a limb, my saw binds up, and I expend far more energy trying to free up my saw than in removing the obstruction. If I work slowly, taking smaller branches, the pressure on the bigger limbs is reduced. Eventually they come out as easily as the smaller branches did.
   I work toward the major obstructions carefully, choosing the right tool for the job. If I go in thoughtlessly, I'll expend a lot of energy but accomplish very little. If I cut too large a piece at once, it becomes unwieldy and gets lost in the current. This is dangerous to me and anyone else in the river and potentially to the river itself. The large piece may jam up in an even more disadvantageous spot, disrupting the flow to a greater extent than originally.
   Obstructions are interrelated. A tire thrown into the middle of the river creates a sandbar, diverting flow toward the banks, which causes erosion. This undercuts tree roots, which causes the tree to fall into the river. This creates a new obstruction, which diverts the flow to the banks, which undercuts tree roots, which....
   No event exists in isolation; each has effects that are powerful and far-reaching. Likewise, removing obstructions (e.g., tires, tree limbs, shipping pallets) allows the natural current to wear down the to the original channel, which halts erosion on the banks, which allows the trees to shade the river and keep the water cool, which....
   The natural riverbed of a coldwater trout stream is sand, gravel, and stone over a clay substrate. In the Shawsheen River, where flow has been obstructed for many years, there is usually a layer of silt, branches, leaves, and trash on the bottom.
   These have accumulated because the current was too restricted to carry these obstacles downstream (and because people all too often use the river as a dumping ground for their unwanted brush and trash).
   Therefore, if I am working in the river and step in a spot where the footing is not firm, I know there is some foreign material there. If I look for it, I will find it. I am not always able to remove it myself immediately, but I can almost always expose it, making it easier to deal with when I come back with help.
   Cleaning a river is hard work. I need to be aware of my own strength and energy level. Otherwise I may injure myself. I have to know my own limitations and when to quit for the day.
   Sometimes when I am pulling trash out of the river I start to get angry. I imagine the people who discarded the trash and attach attributes to them: thoughtless, selfish, stupid, evil. When I find myself doing this, I try to acknowledge the anger and let the judgments pass. Then the anger passes, too, and I am better able to return to my original purpose, which is removing obstructions to flow and enjoying myself in the process.
   Obstructions that are too difficult to remove on one day usually come out easily another day. Obstructions that I overlook completely when moving in one direction are very obvious when I am moving the other way.
   As the flow in an area of the river increases, a point is reached where silt and sand are released from the riverbed into the flowing water. This is where the action is: the river is cleaning itself, constantly uncovering new pieces of trash and debris. I find new things in these areas every day; they require a lot of attention and the river and I work together. Soon these areas will show a gravel riverbed to the world, and I move on.
   One day I was cranky, focusing on the negative, despairing of ever really accomplishing anything. Then, suddenly, I heard a rustling in the thick bushes on the riverbank, twenty feet away. A large snapping turtle was crawling out of the brush, heading for the river. As the blades and branches bent beneath the turtle's weight, it tumbled down the six-foot drop, landing on its back in a sandy spot at the river's edge. The turtle flipped itself over, crawled into the river, and got on with its life. So did I.
   At times I locate an object partially exposed in the riverbed, and as I try to remove it, I discover that it is much larger than I originally thought and is embedded very tightly. If I struggle and attempt to force the object out, I usually get nowhere. This is because I have separated myself from the river.
   Removing the object has become the focus of my actions and the source of my satisfactions. Here again I try to stop, become aware of my own desire for accomplishment and remind myself of my task: working with the river to remove obstructions.
   Then I give up the struggle, clear some of the silt from the object, and move on to another part of the river, leaving the current to do its constant work. I will return another day when the river is ready to give up the object freely and gently.
   I can work in a particular area for a limited amount of time. The river flows 24 hours per day, 7 days per week. It was flowing long before I was born and will continue to flow long after I am gone. Thus it is the river, and not me, that determines what the outcome will be.