Article June 24, 2013 Issue

The Moldau and the Dead Sea

Patrick M. Collins

Two springs pour forth in the shade of the forest, one warm and gushing, the other cold and peaceful. Their waves rush joyously down over their rocky beds, then unite and glisten in the rays of the morning sun. Thus begins the symphonic picture of the Moldau River as painted in music by renowned Czechoslovakian composer Bedřich Smetana.

The Moldau, the longest river in the Czech Republic, is almost 300 miles long, flowing from its source, those two streams in the Bohemian forest, finally to empty into the Elbe River. As you listen to Smetana’s composition, you can almost hear the Moldau grow from its humble beginnings into a mighty river.

I love the mental picture of that river, flowing with a sense of purpose, rolling on past farmland and forests, carrying boats, giving of itself, perhaps providing a refreshing drink to birds and animals, supplying water for farmers’ fields and beauty to all who gaze upon it. To me it typifies the constant flow of life, coming from a hidden source and continuing in eternal existence. The Moldau is a river with a purpose—not only a thing of beauty but also a worthwhile function, a raison d’être.