Cocky Green

PHOTO CREDIT: © liquidlibrary/Jupiterimages

Were there things you did or experienced during your childhood that, upon reflection, probably wouldn’t make any sense to people if you tried to explain it to them?

Our family probably had many, if we are being honest, but one of the most memorable was playing in the runoff of an old irrigation ditch on my grandmother’s farm.

A bit of background, for those who may have never lived in or around a part of the United States (or any country for that matter) where water can be scarce. My home state of Idaho is such a place. The annual rainfall in the valleys can be quite low, while snowfall in the mountains can be (though isn’t always) plentiful. In the spring, when temperatures warm up, this snow pack begins to melt and runs down hill into streams, and eventually rivers. Without human intervention, said water would eventually head straight out to the ocean (The Pacific in this case).

Here’s where irrigation comes into play. Farmers long ago figured out that by diverting water from rivers, you could bring the water to area’s far from the river’s path. This is sometimes accomplished through damming the water, and other times by cutting canals directly from the river. Either way, irrigation allows people to have green grass in their yards, and farmers to grow crops that would otherwise never grow in an area with so little rainfall.

My grandmother’s farm had a few irrigation ditches, but one in particular ran directly along the path that led from the main highway down to their home. I’m not entirely sure, but I think this ditch was primarily created as a means of managing water than ran from several other smaller irrigation paths. The reason for my suspicion, is that this ditch maintained a fairly constant flow of water, even in the winter when most farms would normally close off their ditches so as to not have to pay for unused water.

This ditch stopped in front of the house and drained into a large culvert where the water fell several feet down into a focused pipe. The exit for this pipe was much further down the property and emptied out into a small ravine that focused the water down into the Snake River which ran alongside one edge of the property.

Within this ravine, could be found a very strange phenomenon, which we, as children, came to know as Cocky Green.

Because the ditch provided water to the ravine, trees and shrubs grew within its confines in a greater abundance than would normally be found out in the open. This made the ravine shady, especially in the summer when the temperatures outside could easily reach into the triple digits. My grandmother knew this. She also knew that kids liked to play in water. The problem, is that above the culvert, the water in the ditch was too deep and fast moving for it to be safe to play in. The culvert itself wasn’t protected against children falling into it either, making the water prior to the ravine, unsuitable for play (not that we as kids didn’t try on occasion).

But the water within the ravine was shallow, and because it flowed over the rocky terrain, it wasn’t near as swift moving. This made it (in my grandmother’s mind at least) a safe enough place for kids to play in the water. But the slow moving water, combined with the shade and relative cool created by the nearby river, also made the area a prime breeding ground for a slimy, green algae. You can probably guess then, what moniker us kids decided to give said algae.

Was playing with slimy algae safe? Beats me. We sure did play in it though. Throwing it at each other, rubbing it on our bodies, getting mud and grime all over us and whatever clothing we wore down there.

We’ll ignore the fact that for several months out of the year (at least when I was young) cows pastured down in that area, meaning that there were cow patties strewn all about the ravine (if you don’t know what a cow patty is, well, that’s a whole other story). Lucky for us, nobody ever got some manner of raging bacterial infection or other disease related to cow feces or what ever other types of waste may have been gathered by the water on its long trip down the miles long ditch.

As we got older, my grandfather built a giant water slide, thus replacing the fun that would have otherwise been had down in the ravine. The cows were sold off, and the ditch was also diverted, leaving the ravine overgrown mostly by weeds and thorny bramble that nobody would want to play in and around.

But for some of us grandkids (the older ones) there is the lasting memories of Cocky Green (which may have been spelled Caucky or Cauky Green for all I know).

Until next time good reader. Take care.