Happy Place

I put in sometime after noon on the Menunketusuck.  The tide is low and still dropping, the sky is mostly cloudy with the clouds moving about, and the temperature is in the 70's.  There is a stiff wind coming up the river.

I often set out thinking about the things that I might see, particularly the unusual or new things that nature throws out from time to time.  This tact disappears by the second bend, and I am just happy and thankful to be in such a beautiful place.

It seems that the Osprey are gone.  I spot a Yellow Legs every so often, and a Great Egret.  It is bird quiet for sure.  I'm tallying the few birds, which includes a Cormorant and a few Mallards, when a loose flock of a dozen Great Egrets comes in over my right shoulder and lands, half on the other side of the railroad, half on this side.  I suppose to a creature that flies, the ten foot high berm of the railroad doesn't look like much of a divider. I spot a couple Snowy Egrets.  There don't seem to be any Little Blue Herons or Glossy Ibises, and I suppose they have headed south.

I head back from the rail underpass, which is a one way trip when the tide is moving, and take the east branch up until the water runs thin. Then I head back out and take the west branch up to the pond, which has a 15 inch high stone dam holding the pond water.  I haven't been back here at low tide, so this is the first time that I've seen that, although I have suspected that the bank on this side of the pond might be man-made.

With that, I head out and back up river. 

Visiting the Chinkapin Oak

We set out in the early afternoon down Pond Brook, out into the Housatonic and around the point into the Shephaug. The weather was fine with a partly cloudy sky, almost no wind, and a temperature around 70F. The water was still and almost smooth and there was no one else about.

As we neared the point we passed the chinkapin oak.  S missed it and I promised to point it out on the return.  We spotted a few Great Blue Herons.  

I told S, as we approached the second wide spot, that this was a good area to spot an Eagle.  Getting there, a Hawk called out repeatedly. We spotted it circling overhead.  Then, we heard the distinct call of a Bald Eagle arriving overhead as well.  The Eagle was an immature. The two birds scolded each other until the Eagle flew off up river. 

But, the Eagle did not fly far.  We soon spotted it making a dive for something on the water on the far side of the river. There was a line of first year Common Mergansers, but the Eagle did not seem to interested in them.  Then, a mature Bald came in and took the perch from the younger Eagle.  The Mergansers swam off at a leisurely pace.  All of this occurred solely because I had told S to leave the binoculars at home because the bird watching is not particularly good in this stretch.

At the apple orchard, we turned back, both of us agreeing that it was an exceptional day, and a good trip for the spirit.

As we rounded the point I directed S to the chinkapin oak, having to point out an acorn with the tip of my paddle to prove that it was, in fact, an oak. 

A speeding pontoon boat passed near throwing an unusually large wake for such a dunderheaded boat. I told S that the elderly boat driver surely wanted a Camaro when he was 15 years old, but ended up with a pontoon boat instead. 

We crossed the river and headed back into Pond Brook to our start point. 

A One Osprey Day

I head downriver from the old stage ford, putting in above the small bridge and wading until I am past it.  I am tempted to move one or two of the boulders so that the canoe can squeak past on future trips, but they might have been in place for quite some time, so I let them be. It is a dodgy wade as the water is murky and I can't see more than a half inch into the water.  I am surprised that I don't have to do more wading - I expected the water to run thin over the Gravel Flats. While the water was slack at the ford, the tide is already flowing upstream at the Flats - the tidal current will be a bit zippy today.

It is a beautiful day and my first thoughts are a reflection on what a spectacular place I live in.

Pass some Yellow-Legs at the Gravel Flats - the shallows should be good feeding.  A Green Heron is spotted a bit further down, with a Snowy Egret. A Great Blue Heron flies over.  It is quiet and if there is any distant road noise, the crickets have drowned it out.

Below the Clapboard Hill bridge, a single Short Billed Dowitcher.  I did not expect to see one. It is my first photograph of the day.

Short Billed Dowitcher

Below the railroad bridge, I cut across the river and squeeze by two crab fishermen in a skiff to get into the Sneak.  Once in Bailey Creek, I head up all the way to the culvert.  The tide is coming in fast now.  I get out by the culvert and check the far side of the road and see that, at least for a couple hundred yards, the creek might be paddled.  The culvert, by the way, is submerged, even at lower tide levels. 

Entering the Sneak

I head back via the Long Cut, which connects to the Sneak not far from where it joins the East River.  

Back above the Clapboard Hill bridge, I spot my first Osprey of the day.  It seems like there should be more, but then again, I did not go all the way down to the sound, and if they haven't migrated, they might be where there is better fishing.  The Osprey leads me upriver in several short hops, all the way back to the old ford. It has been a one Osprey day... many months since that happened.

Clear the Head

I set out from under the bridge just after high tide, but the current is still flowing upriver, which I imagine is something of the inertial persuasion.  It is sunny and in the upper 70's with a south (upriver) wind at maybe 10 mph. I head across the river paddling under the three bridges and then up and into the four islands.  I make a lap of Peacock Island, flushing several Mallards, a Yellow Crowned Night Heron and a couple Great Egrets.  Then, I continue upriver.

I turn back when I get to the power lines. It will be a short day, just enough to clear the head.  I come up with an idea to go along with my "Decoys for Bad Fishermen". I take the west channel behind the islands, then cut across the river and call it a day. 

Catching the Tide

Other than the wind, it was an ideal day for canoeing.  The wind wasn't so bad that it would keep anyone on shore, but it was strong enough to encourage me to head to a smaller and more forested river.

We put in at the usual spot on the Mattebasset.  The water level was quite low as we set out - a combination of late summer and very low tide.  Even here, about 30 miles from the ocean, there is a 2-1/2 foot tidal fluctuation. 

We head downriver.  Great Blue Herons are the bird of the day with 12 to 15 sighted during the trip. S spots a mature Bald Eagle just as we turn the bend that comes out of the forested section.  Cormorants are perching in trees, something I haven't seen all summer.  There is a Kingfisher here and there, and songbirds are starting to feed in the swamp grasses and wild rice.  S spots a baby turtle - no more than 2 inches across. I watch for beaver sign, but see none.  The known lodges are abandoned and dilapidated.

We turn at the big river and head back up, with a side trip up the Coginchaug.  Just below the Coginchaug launch, we find a beaver downed tree.  It has fresh cuts. The grass all around has been well trampled and the limbs of the tree removed and hauled away.  I find two small scent mounds on the far side of the river.  It is not much for beaver sign, but it does show that there is at least one in the vicinity.  I don't spot a lodge or bank burrow. 

Heading back upriver, we stop to shake some wild rice, but get no kernels to fall off.   

Twin Lakes

Together they are called the Twin Lakes - Washining and Washinee are the actual names. The lakes are located in the northwest corner of Connecticut.

M joins me with my new canoe.  We meet G and A at the state boat launch on Washining Lake, but the quarter mile dirt road leading to the water is blocked by a downed tree.  Yesterday a wind storm and possible tornado came through the area.  We all backtrack a mile to O'Hara's Landing Marina.  It is a small old school marina and while they charge a fee for launching, M talks them in to giving us a discount. 

We put in and set out under overcast skies with almost no wind and temperatures in the mid-60's.  It is ideal canoe weather.

Today is my first trip here, and I am pleased.  There are lakeside houses but they are well spaced out and many of them are modest and partially hidden in the trees.  At a distance, all around, are tall forested hills and it is noticeably quiet with the exceptions being a generator here and there for a house that has lost power from the storm, and a couple of chainsaws where people are clearing downed trees. We see a kayak and canoe from a distance and a couple fishing boats, and that is all the boat traffic for this day.

The four of us follow the shoreline north and around to an island that is connected to the mainland by a short bridge.  The island is home to a summer camp for the American School for the Deaf. We can spy some interesting architecture from the water - the island was once a rich guy's estate.  We spot a mature Bald Eagle, adding to several Great Blue Herons that we've seen.

There is a short narrow channel - maybe 75 yards, that leads to Washinee Lake.  This channel is small enough to prevent motorboats from passing.  Washinee is smaller but just as pleasant as Washining - a few well spaced houses. 

At the north end of the lake we find the outflow.  Just short of a half mile further, there is a dam with manual gates to maintain the lake level.  From there, there is a small creek that winds quite a way north and finds its way to the Housatonic.

At the dam

We all turn and head back out, voting unanimously to make a direct route so as to get to Ohara's in time to eat at their rustic diner. The lakeside diner reminds me of something I might find in Northern Minnesota and everyone there is quiet happy to have  conversation.  One of the guys turns out to be employed by the town to control the lake level - he's the one who turns the valves at the outflow.  A leaves before eating, but the remaining three of us have a nice talk over burgers fries and onion rings. 

Nell's Not-really-an-island Island

I head downriver as the last few minutes of the high tide comes in.  It is a sunny day with a few large cumulus clouds floating about and a light wind coming upriver. 

The Common Terns seem to be gone.  Recently, they were perching on the first dock above the marsh.  I am not sure, but I imagine they have continued on their migration south.  Terns have very long migrations. 

Nell's Not-much-of-an-island

I head direct into the Nell's Not-Island.  Nell's whatever-it-is has been part of a recent art project, so I end up thinking about it when I'm out here.  Nell's is at least 90% spartinat alternaflora, the variety of salt marsh grass that grows where the grass is flooded on most every high tide - twice a day. When is an island not an island... maybe when it is fully submerged twice a day?  Anyway, I've pretty much decided that it became known as an island because their are navigable channels on either side of the what-ever-it-is. 

The middle of Nell's Not-really-an-island

The main river is to the west and it is capable of handling large barges and the steamboats that once traveled it.  The smaller channel to the east still can handle a pretty large boat - something around 50 foot or so, at least during mid to high tide. And that's pretty much why it is an "island"... because you can't run into it without wrecking your boat. It probably all stems from an era when marshland was considered wasteland - Nell's was only marked on maps because it was in the way.

At high tide, no part of the island is any different than anywhere else in the marsh.  It's just channels and ponds separated by strips and patches of flooded spartina. I flush Night Herons as I pass through the maze. Then, I head across the marsh to the east.  There are Night Herons and Egrets perching in the trees south of the refuge put-in.  I head north instead and take a back channel up to the Central Phragmites patch, where I flush about a dozen mature Black Crowned Night Herons and a few Yellow Crowns.  Then, I head back upriver.