I set off up the big river, a twenty minute paddle to the mouth of the smaller river, a left turn under three closely arranged bridges...and it changes, just like that.
...a forest lined river...or is it swamp with those wet footed trees. A river like this always has an old feeling about it. Maybe its the silver snags standing for a few more years, or maybe its the trees that have tipped to the water, bowed to gravity and weather. It's a place that goes out of its way to make it hard for people to get to.
I've been here before, but never liked it as much as I do today... it is the wind. The usual traffic noise that bears down on the marsh and forest is being blown away by the wind. Today, this is a wild place disconnected from development.
The river goes from tree lined swamp forest to an expansive fresh water tidal marsh, then it returns to swamp forest.
I notice that the water is high and the current nonexistent, especially since this is close to low tide. I suppose the recent rains have added water to the big river, and the small river has no place to go. I pass my previous high point and keep going in the still and deep waters. The river keeps going, I keep paddling. I thought the current would start fighting me by this point. I thought that I would've turned back by now. But, I have time and I keep going.
I paddle under two bridges and up to an old railroad bridge where the river shallows and the current is fast. I could wade past into the pool above, but my start was not early enough for the longer trip. I turn back from where someone parked their car. I'm out six miles and I've seen three people...two fishermen and a guy sitting in a chair reading. I've nodded to each, no words have been spoken.