Reconnect

My canoe ancestors, the voyageurs, the 18th and 19th century explorers of North America, the fur traders - their canoes were tools of the trade. They transported goods or the supplies necessary to extend a trip into what they did not know.  The necessity of a canoe for such things ended some 50 or 60 years ago, perhaps, as the fur trade more or less disappeared.  My canoe trips are minor explorations of things that can't be seen on maps and more importantly, explorations of what is inside me.  Sure, I come here to observe natural goings on, but the real value of the effort is that it always is an emotional trip.

I needed to wash away a recent art exhibition.  The art was created using AI as a tool.  Art is, of course, in the eye of the beholder, but I often tell younger artists that the viewers can sense when the artist is lying.  To say it another way, good art comes from the heart of the artist.  In the case of this exhibition, it was impossible to see where the art was AI and where the art was "artist".  It was uninteresting and flat from my perspective, no matter how cool the computational methods were.  

There is a link between that last paragraph and canoeing and outdoor activities.   I read a few online news pages about climbing and canoeing, just because every once in awhile something worth reading pops up.  This morning, it was some climbing accident data.  Aside from the usual stuff, there were several cases of people just plain getting lost.  The writer of the report recommended getting a navigation app.  Really?  If a person's goal is to have a connection to the natural - whether climbing, hiking or canoeing, how does an app on your f-ing smart phone lead you to that goal.  I have a GPS unit, it is 19 years old and sits in the back of my car most of the time.  I bought it to pinpoint locations when I was helping an archaeologist.  It's a pretty good use for GPS.  But, I found it a distraction when hiking or canoeing - focusing on the little gadget is a sure way to be lost when the gadget stops working.  One should be looking at and remembering landmarks and landscape views, and one should be carrying a compass.  A compass, a map and natural landmarks is the route to a connection with the earth.  Pay attention to what you are doing!

Harrier

I put in at the old stage ford.  The tide is dropping, the wind is moderate and out of the south.  It is sunny and in the 60's.   The cattails are bursting, not just a few but almost all of them.  Some years they stay solid well into winter, or longer.  I'm not sure why they are all bursting, but it feels like something hopeful to me.  I find a Harrier working the marsh below the Clapboard Hill bridge.  It's been several months since I've seen a Harrier.  They don't seem to be around when the Willets and Osprey are.

Short-billed Dowitcher

I spot a Short-billed Dowitcher near a few Yellow-Legs while in the middle of the Big Bends. 

In the main marsh below the railroad, I just barely made it through the Sneak, dragging bottom in the mud for about 75 yards.  It's a pain to walk out of that channel, and it was a relief to get past the high point.  

Corduroy road protruding from the bank

The corduroy road in Bailey Creek was right at the water level.  I hadn't been in here at a low enough tide to see that for some time.  A second Harrier is working this part of the marsh.  

I turn back up the East River, with the tidal current against me, but with the wind more than making up for it.  The Dowitcher is where I last saw it and it poses quite nicely for me.

The camera makes the river look bigger than it actually is

I don't have to wade until I am about a hundred yards from my start point.  I need more practice stumbling on submerged boulders.