Virtually Gliding Along

Do you want to take a canoe ride today?  Your not dressed?  No paddle?  NO excuses!  Put that toddler down for her afternoon nap, set aside the last of the laundry, turn down the burner on the lunch soup, set aside that pile of bills, or turn off the TV.   Now get something cool and refreshing to drink and put your feet up and let me do the paddling for you as I share a canoe trip down the creek north of where I live.  Come on, take a big sigh so that I know you are unwound enough to enjoy this.

This creek is a tidal tributary and was established as a preserve by the Nature Conservancy in 1978.   This tidal basin is near historic Mallows Bay which I wrote about in an earlier post on my other blog. 

Today is a perfect early summer day for such an adventure.  The morning golden sun is up and shining but a silk shawl of cool air swirls around and around keeping the temperature exactly as needed.  The wind does not push or pull the canoe but races along with us brushing at wisps of our hair and gently caressing our faces.  The sun warms our shoulders.  You can see that those who live back in the woods beyond the edge of the creek are now all hard at work.  Their toys lie idle along the shoreline.  Be thankful you can spend some time with me.

Many birds sing lyrical songs from deep in the emerald shade of the woods.  Once or twice my eye catches a gnat catcher, but they are gray green with hints of yellow gray, and it is hard to be sure I am right when they dress in such advantageous camouflage.  A significant population of red dragonflies sails along with us darting across our bow and showing off.  Smaller blue dragonflies are seen near the shallows and seem to be deeply involved with each other dipping tail's end into the surface of the water as they coast with their mates.


We see an abundance of both osprey and eagles and this means that later this year there will be an abundance of calling and dangerous threatening air battles as they compete for territory and space for their young.  There seem to be more bald eagles, which might mean fewer ospreys next year.  At least for now everyone is eating and/or sitting.

Just ahead the water surface ripples as the air kisses the river.  But then suddenly the surface grows crazy as we are hit by a zephyr that has caught the edge of the trees and is doing a devilish self-twirl.  Its sudden and unexpected power almost tears our caps from our heads and makes it difficult to keep the bow on course. But this only lasts a minute and soon races on its way laughing at our surprise.
There are feathered "fisherbirds" of all shapes and sizes around every corner.  Some are successful and others are being patient.  Even so my camera is having trouble getting a clear shot as we glide past large great blue herons.

Beneath the water's surface we can see gar the size of a sumo wrestler's arm rolling in the shallows and minnows smaller than reeds darting for safety.  We frighten the rare turtle and see several mud slides between the roots of grasses which are most likely evidence of beavers or otters or muskrats at play when we are not here.

These days are rare and worth more than anything money can buy.  Can you smell that honeysuckle vine growing just beyond those trees?  Can you hear the gentle lap of water against the canoe hull?  Do you feel the wisp of air across your brow?  Can you see how perfect this day is with clouds floating like new lambs across a blue quilt?

We have gone quite some distance, but it is just too lovely to head back just yet, and I want to take a photo of that wild rose that grows just beyond the grasses.  Besides I am ready for lunch and I know just the place.

Oh, look over your head! We have startled another bald eagle from his survey perch.

Lets glide down that little finger of the estuary before we head back out.  I bet there is a cool shady place to tie up and have lunch.  

Once in the shade as the water narrows the sun plays on the surface and reflects back from the muddy water.  There is a mirage of an underwater canyon of buttes and pinnacles in the brown liquid as the sun glitters against the soup.  Just ahead I see some movement.  Maybe we can share with this farmer's ducks!  Ooops!  Guess they are a little shy.  We will tie up here on this little point.  Look at how the reflection of the water dances against the trunks of those trees just across the way!   What a light show.

As we pack up. it looks as though the weather is changing late in the afternoon.  I think I see a storm is brewing toward the west so we must turn around and head back to the dock. We make it to our car and are just a few miles from home when the sky breaks into big gray tears seeming sorry to see us leave.  Maybe another trip again soon?