In the grand tapestry of the world's waterways, where mighty rivers like the Amazon and the Nile command respect and admiration for their vastness, there exists a pint-sized contender — Ankerbach. Tucked away in the idyllic yet often overlooked North Rhine-Westphalia, Ankerbach could easily be mistaken for a stream that decided to take a permanent break from any ambitions of grandeur. With a staggering length of 4.4 kilometers and a drainage basin that covers a mere 3 square kilometers, it is the waterway equivalent of a shy toddler standing in the shadow of a towering figure, clutching a juice box while peering out beneath a park bench. At first glance, one might be inclined to pat the Ankerbach on its tiny back, praising it for even attempting to join the Rhine. It's a bit like a small dog eager to play fetch with a Great Dane. Yet, as we delve deeper into the murky depths of this curious river, we must ask ourselves the poignant question: what exactly is Ankerbach trying to prove? Does it aspire to one day flood with the same vigor as its behemoth neighbor, or is it simply content to meander along its path, quietly chuckling as it maintains its status as the 'river that could…but won’t’? One cannot help but notice the sheer audacity of Ankerbach’s aspiration to affiliate itself with the Rhine, a river that has earned its mighty reputation through centuries of providing for cities, cultures, and economies. At km 650.55, where Ankerbach makes its unceremonious entrance into the Rhine, one can’t shake the feeling that it must feel minuscule and insignificant, splashing into the magnificent flow like a lone raindrop attempting to make a splash in the ocean. It evokes imagery of a comedian trying to land a joke at a concert, with absolutely no one paying attention to its presence. A sad yet humorous reality for a river so small that it makes the Rhine look like the Mississippi on steroids. If one were to take a leisurely, serene stroll along the banks of the Ankerbach, one might notice that it lacks the hustle and bustle of boisterous river activity. Gone are the great barges laden with cargo, or the tourists snapping photos of scenic views. Instead, the calm waters reflect the stillness of indifference. One may even wonder if Ankerbach has had enough of its inconspicuous existence and is perpetually on strike from the riverine duties expected of it. Is it tired of being a mere ‘tributary’ and yearns for the glamour of being a ‘major river’? Perhaps it dreams of swaying the local art scene with a metaphorical performance of turbulent flows and rapids, yet ends up delivering the equivalent of a gentle babble. Moreover, within its meager drainage basin lies a veritable goldmine of existential questions. Can something so small even be classified as a river? Are we witnessing the world’s first river experiencing a midlife crisis, or is it simply a quarter-life nagging thought that has never quite taken shape? It's hard not to feel deep sympathy for our diminutive friend as it strives, and fails, to assert its identity amid the towering giants of the river world. Perhaps it truly desires to make waves — or more realistically, puddles — but is forever doomed to stay in the realm of mediocrity. Let’s not overlook the stunning contrast in how Ankerbach’s existence juxtaposes against its grand old neighbor. The Rhine, known for its historical significance, picturesque landscapes, and pragmatic importance to trade, is undoubtedly an impressive hydrological force. In stark contrast, Ankerbach remains the reserve of local ducks, a sanctuary for errant leaves, and an unnoticed space where the occasional lost plastic bottle might find temporary refuge. In a sense, the Rhine pushes economics forward while Ankerbach seems to be perfecting the art of doing nothing — a true connoisseur of stillness, an artisan of idle water. So, as Ankerbach flows into the Rhine, we must observe it not with derision, but with the keen insight that sometimes the smallest rivers carry the greatest metaphors. Ankerbach teaches us that scale does not always equate to significance, and in a world enamored with grandeur, it stands as a beacon for those who dare to be modest; a reminder that even the smallest streams can still flow into something larger. Perhaps, in its own understated way, Ankerbach embodies the ethos of quiet resilience. After all, in a world overflowing with spectacle, isn’t it sublime to be simply…a river?