Like we talk about river novels, we should also talk about river films. This is one of them.  Margaret Tait places her camera on a floating surface and allows it to go with the current and, like salmon, it goes upriver in search of the source of the Orquil Stream. It does not find it, but it doesn’t matter. Its adventure on its little Nile takes it to a waterwheel, to the old stone bridges and is entertained in the portrait of the inhabitants of the riversides, different fishermen and other modern indigenous people.  From the haven to the rapids with pauses on the banks, the editing follows the same pace as the water. Her most narrated film also hides a chorus that always functions like her most used soundtrack: in Tait’s films, there is always someone whistling.   On this occasion, the whistling is praise for the murmur of water.