|A bad photo of a snowy egret swallowing a fish|
I head out into the main channel of the Connecticut River. There is a small bear of a headwind, but with the extra effort comes a freshness in the air and a comfort to the skin that has been absent during the past week of high heat and humidity. I hug the shore, paddling under the long cast lines of striper fishermen and outside of the drop lines of crabbers.
|Plastic Owl Party|
At the upstream end of Calves Island, a waving panel of something draws me over to the tidal grasses. It is thirty inches of one end of a canoe. I pry the aluminum manufacturer's plate off as a specimen and leave the rest behind. Wrecked boats fall into a not quite litter category in my mind.
I continue on upriver into the bottom of Lord's Cove. The inner passage is hosting several osprey. Five are aloft while two are on nearby pilings and I'm sure there are more in the area. If one is not within my view, all it takes is a turn of the head. The wind is straight in the face and the shallow bay north of Goose Island is choppy. I take brief rests in the bedrock finger ridges that run off the hills and into the river.
|One of the several bedrock finger ridges|
Back in the Lieutenant, I explore one of the narrow side passages taking it back ten minutes or so until it peters out. There are a good number of wren nests and red wing blackbirds back here, unseen by those that stay in the main.