What makes a river feel alive?

I’ve guided on the same stretch for twelve years, and lately I keep noticing how clients react to the water—some see it as a place to catch fish, others just stand there, eyes closed, like they’re listening. I don’t know if it’s the sound of the current, or the way light hits the riffles at 6:30 a.m., but something about it feels less like a resource and more like a presence. Not spiritual, exactly—just… there. What do you think? When did a place last make you feel that way?