Back in My Marsh

After a few days of paddling in a river to the east, a trip where I was constantly on my alert and ever watching for something ahead, I return to my marsh.
I set out from Portage Bay, but only because I seem to think that I should earn my trip today by paddling an extra mile. I pause in the west islands and note that last years cattails are only visible in the new growth by their shaggy heads that for some reason still stand. I hear a marsh wren and locate it low in the cattails just in time to see it snatch a large flying insect from the air.

The goslings have grown so much in the last two weeks. They are nearly the size of adult geese. The irises are still in bloom, the cool and rain that people here have complained about has extended their yellow blooms longer than normal.

I head across the north marsh and spot a pied billed grebe with two or three young. They are diving so often it is difficult to count, but the young are the smallest water birds that I have seen. They are the size of small sparrows except for their longer necks. They seem too small to be here.

As I near the NE lagoon, the big female bald eagle from the north nest wheels in the air in front of me before setting up in a tall tree. I pause in the lagoon right under the her for a few minutes and then head south across the bay.

As I cross the east marsh, a raccoon appears in the shadows to my right. It ambles away into disappearance, all at its own pace.

I am enveloped by the calmness of it all.