The river teaches us how to slow down

My legs drift in the cool, crystal-clear water. My toes brush the surface as the current slowly carries me forward. Then something unexpected happens. A blue dragonfly lands gently on my knee. I stay completely still. Its wings shimmer in the sunlight like tiny stained-glass windows. For a few breaths, there is only the river, the dragonfly and me. I experience it as a sacred moment.

Charl drifts a little way behind me. He watches the landscape slowly slip past as families laugh and bob along on large inflatable tubes. Some carefully balance drinks on their knees, while others chat lazily as the water carries them downstream. No one is in a hurry. That is precisely what strikes me most. I wish I could share this simple, peaceful joy with my children and family.

Summer in Zurich has its own heartbeat. When the heat settles over the city, Lake Zurich and the Limmat become everyone’s playground. People let go of their usual seriousness, put on their swimming clothes and slip into the water as if it were the most natural thing in the world. For a while, we all play together.

The River’s Traditions: Zurich’s Year in Water

The Limmat almost has a calendar of its own. Each season brings new rituals and traditions that draw people back to the river, revealing a different side of the city each time.

Limmatschwimmen — The Great Float

Our first swim in the Limmat was during the famous Limmatschwimmen. For one day each year, the river becomes a vast, joyful stream of people. Up to 4,500 swimmers enter the water, each holding on to an inflatable figure. And every year brings its own design.

In 2022, we managed to get tickets. Charl and I held tightly onto our bright yellow duckling as the current carried us downstream alongside thousands of others. We laughed, floated and, for a few minutes, forgot about all the things that usually occupy our minds. The event is so popular that we haven’t been able to get tickets again since our previous participation. In 2027, Limmatschwimmen will celebrate its 60th anniversary.

Samichlaus Schwimmen — The Brave Ones

Early in December, when winter has already laid its cold hand over Zurich, around 300 swimmers wearing Santa hats enter the icy Limmat. It is a charity event, but also a test of sheer courage. Watching them from the riverbank is quite enough for me. Just seeing them disappear into that freezing water makes my legs shiver.

Lichterschwimmen — A River of Light

On the last Thursday before Christmas, schoolchildren release hundreds of glowing lanterns into the river. Families gather along the banks, warm punch in their hands, watching the tiny lights slowly drift downstream. One by one, they disappear around the bend. It is one of Zurich’s gentlest traditions and a quiet moment of light before winter truly settles in.

Our own Limmat tradition and an unexpected discovery

Somewhere among all these great city rituals, my friend Henriette and I developed a small tradition of our own. Every August, when summer is at its warmest, we swim in the open stretch of the Limmat. Last year, the river was full and fast. The current carried us almost effortlessly along. We could relax and let the water do its work.

This year was different. The drought had slowed the river. The water was shallower, and more rocks were visible. Instead of being carried by the river, we had to swim to reach the endpoint. We had no idea how strange things were about to become, because beneath the low water level, the river was hiding something.

Other swimmers spotted a hand grenade barely a metre from the riverbank. The police and military bomb-disposal experts arrived. They confirmed that it was a live grenade from the former Yugoslavia and removed it safely. I looked at the river differently afterwards, wondering what else it may hide beneath its surface.

Europe is baking under record temperatures, and the riverbanks have taken on a new shape. Rocks that would normally remain hidden beneath the water now lie exposed and dry. Shallow pools have appeared where there was once a deeper current.

This year, people are even seeing more snakes along the Limmat, drawn to the warm rocks and shallow water. Henriette and I have therefore decided to postpone our inflatable-tube outing until next year, and only if the rain is back in Zurich by then.

When the river runs too low

The changes in the river affect more than just swimmers. From April to October, electric riverboats glide through Zurich’s Old Town. I love taking visitors on these cruises. From the water, you see parts of the city that aren’t visible from land. Buildings, bridges and old walls look different when you drift past them.

This year, the riverboats cannot operate. The river is too shallow. Officials have suspended all tours because the boats risk scraping the riverbed. Even the boarding ramps have become too steep for people to get on safely. It is strange to see the Limmat like this. Still and almost vulnerable. Perhaps that is why I see it differently now.

What the river leaves with us

As I drift down the Limmat this summer, I realise how quietly a river teaches us. It shows us that landscapes change, water rises and falls, and traditions endure even as circumstances shift. Movement, it reminds us, does not require perfect conditions.

Sometimes the current slows us, surprises us, or carries us effortlessly. Yet the river keeps finding its way forward.

Along its banks, it gathers people and moments: a dragonfly resting on my knee, a lantern slipping downstream, a familiar ritual shared with Henriette. Small moments, easily missed, become anchors that remind us of who we are, where we belong, and who we share the journey with.

Perhaps the river’s greatest gift is what it teaches us to notice along the way. To slow down, be present, and let the current carry us for a while.

Regards

Emsia