The Quinnipiac is one of those abused rivers, an underdog that tries its best to return to what it should always have been. It reminds me of parts of the Duwamish back in Seattle. At low tide, the irresponsible discards of industry can be found on the banks. At all tides, the noise of nearby highways can be heard. It takes some time on the river to make that stuff disappear and to start to appreciate the underdog for what it still has.
I labored upstream for an hour and a half, and then I turned and sped downstream with the current, and the beauty of what I worked for came out.