The Sigurd Oslon Fan

When we get to the lower put in, it seems that the whole gang is there.  J, the fishing guide, is coaching a guy who is standing waist deep in the river practicing his casting.  But, we meet a really nice guy is just hauling out a 17 ft. Royalex Tripper.  That's a good canoe and a fairly big canoe as well.  S and I have a good long talk with B, something that happens more often than you'd expect in these parts.  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a pair of kayakers watching the talk.  But, this is a talk between three canoeists.  Not that we're better, because we're not, but our boats are different, our paddles are different, where we can go and what we can carry and do with our boats is different.  Canoes are special and they are connected to rivers and marshes and northern lands in a way that kayaks can only imagine.  B turns out to be a Sigurd Olson fan as well, "I have all of his books".
So, it is all good, but the day is getting on and it is time for us to head upriver.  I give B my card and we paddle out.

a nicely out of focus photo...by Cedar Island

It is a remarkably quiet day in the marsh.  The Willets, having finished nesting, are who knows where...we count only 6 by the time we reach the RR bridge.  One Osprey nest is empty, so their young have fledged.  I spot one of that nest's young at Cedar Island with an adult above keeping watch.  But the other nests are still occupied, either they have fledged and are resting or they haven't started flying yet.  Most of the adults are perched and they probably did their fishing earlier in the morning.

In the Big Bends

We spot a Green Heron between the Big Bends and the Arch Bridge.  It flies off to perch in a nearby snag, but returns by the time we come back down the river.  It flies short hops ahead of us until it gets to the top of the Big Bends, then it circles back.

Great Egret being ruffled by the wind

It is a peaceful paddle made even more so by a day that doesn't encourage exertion.  The water is calm, the tidal current minimal, and the wind just enough to carry off the sweat.  We turn at the arch bridge, which I had silently set as a minimum when we started.  The low tide would run us short of water in another 1/2 mile anyway.