Low tide limits my choices. The smaller tidal rivers are too scratchy, if passable at all. I paddle away on the big river, rounding the first point and finding five swans up close. The large adult takes a position between me and his following. It is three cygnets, with just a touch of grey left in their feathers. The fourth is either a small adult or a whiter sibling.
I paddle across the channel to Pope's Flat, the spartina well above my head, my horizon the primordial proto-peat that centuries of growth has meshed into a deep brown soggy adobe. Two shorebirds with dark and light patterning flee without being identified. A lone cygnet rests on the shore. A great blue heron flies off a good 1/3 mile downstream.
Near the island next to the island next to Pope's Flat (which is an island) I find a bird killer hooked on an old rope snagged on a water logged and barnacle encrusted tree limb. I collect the specimen.
I continue down following the other town's shoreline eventually noting that theirs is mostly marinas and docks while ours is a sizable and often vibrant salt marsh. The point where river becomes sea is my turn around. The marsh still too shallow for passage, I return as I came except for using the more protected inner channel. I find a few common loons as I near the sea. One surfaces 20 yards away and takes its time eyeing me before diving.
I add a couple more herons and one mature bald eagle to the daily count.