Reflections on Environmental Pride

I set out from Pond Brook, my most usual spot for Housatonic 4, my short hand for the fourth section of the river counting from the ocean. This is the third reservoir. It is a warm and humid day, but starting with an overcast sky that I hope will last for a few hours. 

The second Eagle

 As busy as this area can be on a summer weekend, one can be alone for quite some time mid-week or off season. I head out of the cove, passing a Great Blue Heron that is hidden under the overhanging trees along the bank. I turn down and round the point into the Shephaug arm. A mature Bald Eagle has just crossed the river and landed in a tall pine tree snag.

 Before living in Connecticut, I lived in Seattle - for a good long time. There was often a misplace pride in how environmentally friendly the people of the Pacific Northwest were. They looked at the surrounding forests and mountains and took pride, in something they had little to do with. In fact, some 35% of the land in that area is federal - either National Forest, National Park or Bureau of Land Management lands. It was great to have that land, but it wasn't really a result of the people who lived in the area. Now, Connecticut has no National Forests, and its National Parks are  a couple tiny patches of land. We do have some good National Wildlife Refuges, but no matter how anyone totals it, the percentage of federal land is minimal. So, when I first started exploring my new state, I was somewhat fascinated to find that we had quite a large amount of open forest land (the state is almost 70% forest) Some of it is state forest or state park, but some of the best places are preserves that individual towns protected. There is even one large forest that is family foundation lands open to the public, and there are many stories of people donating land to National Wildlife Refuges. 

Young Woodducks

 Anyway, that is usually what comes to mind when I paddle this route. Although there are some houses, usually well back on the hillsides, the houses are sparse and almost never occupy both sides of the river. As I round the point and head up the Shephaug, I hug the river-left bank. I paddle under a rather unperturbed Bald Eagle. This side is all protected mature forest until up past Pecker Point. Beyond that there is a house that dates to at least the mid 19th century. It kinda belongs there, having an old stone wall that disappears into the water and river front acreage that is old apple orchard. Beyond that, it is forest on both sides, all the way to the cascades. It is a fine day, I turn and head back out.