How does recognizing an environment as a wetland enhance understanding social and material relationships surrounding it?
A cormorant was standing on top of a rock, watching its surroundings. Another suddenly disappeared while floating in the water. Watching their movements around the water made me think about the level of the water,1 deep enough for them to fully dip their bodies. These pools were not shallow like wallows,2 and cormorants did not produce such watery areas by themselves. How deep those watery zones were was also not unambiguous due to the occasional wetness. Nevertheless, they were accentuating and actualizing the depth, at least for bodily immersion.
Volumetric thinking can enlarge our sense of the existence of water. Steinberg and Peters deliberate on the notion of volume and argue for a wet ontology.3 In addition to lines and borders, depth also qualifies a wetland zone: how water is conceived and engaged with. When I encountered the Seyhan River, I thought it was more of a dry riverbed than a river, which gave me the impression that the water had gone. However, there was actually water, but it was just not high in volume, or maybe it can be said that it was not extractable.4 Therefore, what cormorants reveal is that water exists, either in the deeps or in shallows, which might be mistaken for absence.
The depth of water demonstrates what bodies can do at different levels. For instance, cormorants can dip their heads and dive into water deep enough to completely submerge their bodies. As some locals in the field also mention, the shallow water, which some call yuka or çipil, could become a beginner-level space for learning how to swim.5 These are highlights for the depth of water, which can unfold issues around visibility or usability.
The act of dipping can reveal material and social aspects of wetness. A wetland zone that depicts a low level of water may be associated with “no water,” signaling less attention, lower perceived value, or reduced attraction compared to deep waters. Thinking about “to dip,” “to dip into,” or “a dip” may allow us to go beyond surface-level engagements with wet zones. At first glance, these expressions might refer to traveling across levels, sparing little time on a thing, signifying a topographical character, or an immersion in liquid. In relation to a watery context, it might be said that wetlands may be regarded as the dip of a thing, or topographical existence; in some cases, they are not meant to be dived into or pondered carefully, and in others, they may become a wet area for one to immerse.