The Guide - August 20

An artist, a new friend, meets me at the house for the portage east to the big lake. Jerry hasn't canoed a lot, but he takes it all in, he's up for the portage and he has no time restraints. He is canoe material. We paddle up the lake and in to the big beaver lodge. Lilly pads are browning now and the dense field of green plates is thinning, but there are still flowers. We get out at the new street end park/reserve that meets the lake right near the lodge and look over the fine work that a diligent group of volunteers has been engaged in. We each deliver a 5 gallon pail of water to one of the new trees that they have planted. Then we return to the canoe and poke the bow into the beaver forest. The water is down a foot from its highest and entry to the beaver tangle is now blocked, but I point out how every bit of wood is gnawed. Then we wrap around west into the east marsh. Here, Jerry takes out his good camera, the big art making one, and I paddle alone. Recently, two people, out of the goodness of their hearts, provided a place for me to make art for week, all my needs cared for. I feel especially warm inside as I guide the canoe in and out of the cattails, Jerry's eye in the camera, the click-snap of his camera firing as the scene ever changes. I really don't want him to pick up his paddle. I'd rather that he just keep making art.

He has never seen the arboretum, where we finally land, so we take a long indirect portage so that Jerry can see the lay of the land. I take no photos myself. I write no notes in the canoe. I am busy...I am the guide.