In an insightful rethinking of what constitutes ‘animism’, Graham Harvey defines animism as: ‘being concerned with learning how to be a good person in respectful relationships with other persons’ (2005: xi). Further, only some persons are human. In this chapter I ask how we, as humans, can engage respectfully with ‘water persons’ such as rivers, creeks and rain. Following Harvey, I argue that such respectful engagement with water persons involves a significant rethinking of our more general world-view and religious mythology. Further, religion is not about belief in the supernatural, but, quoting Detwiler, Harvey suggests that religion is ‘a quest for ethical responsibility through communicative action’ (ibid.: 49). As he puts it later in the book, ‘animism is concerned with the unfolding of potential (in) relationships’ (ibid.: 64). This leads me to the question: what unfolds from a communicative relationship with water persons? I argue that the answer tells us as much about ourselves, and what it means to be human, as it does about water. The answer, of course, and as always, begins in stories.

I stand on a walking track high up on Mount Wellington, the mountain that overshadows the city of Hobart, in Tasmania, Australia, where I live. On this walking track I have a regular stopping point where I stand and listen to a small running stream that crosses the path. If I listen carefully it is possible to ‘hear’ my way up the creek.