A River Starves Through It: Salmon, Forests, and the Collapse of Life

Imagine a river so thick with salmon that the water itself seems to shimmer, the silver bodies of fish slicing through the current in a desperate, timeless migration. Eagles scream overhead, diving to snatch writhing bodies from the torrent. Bears stand knee-deep in the rush, tearing open bellies, scattering pink flesh across the banks. The forest drinks this feast—leaves stretching higher, trees growing thicker, roots sinking deeper. In death, the salmon become the forest, their ocean-born bodies dissolving into soil, nourishing the roots of cedar and spruce.