The Freedom of the Migratory Geese

When I stepped outside this morning, I heard the distant honking of Canada Geese, and I scanned the tops of the surrounding trees trying to spot them. Seeing nothing, I waited for them to fly into view.  Then, I turned my head skyward and saw a lopsided V of thirty-some Geese somewhere between 500 and a 1000 feet overhead, the sun sparkling off of their feathers.  These are the Geese that have held onto their freedom, traveling thousands of miles each year in their migrations, travels that must be more interesting than the endless nibbling of parks and golf courses that their non-migratory cousins engage in.  The park Geese have developed shorter necks, and hunters tell me that they do not respond to decoys.  Giving up the migrations, the park Geese have lost some of their social abilities - they no longer join the feeding Ducks and Geese out in the marsh.  They might as well be staring at their smart phones.  I'll take the freedom of the migrating Canada Goose, thank you very much.

I put in at the Rocky Hill Ferry crossing and head down river.  There is a light wind out of the north, a coll wind on a day that will not top 65F.  The river is low and there is little current.   The sky is clear.

I follow the shady east shore for just short of an hour before crossing back.  I spot a small inlet that I have always passed on previous trips.  This time I enter. I weave around a few deadfalls before seeing to a three-footer that blocks for sure.  I hear running water and move up to the last downed tree, and find a 4-foot high beaver dam about ten feet farther in.  I stand up to get a better view and a better photograph.  A flock of migrating Canada Geese pass overhead.

The beaver dam is in the shade

I decide to explore on a later trip, and head back to the river.  When I get to my starting point, I continue up.  I find a couple of ripe patches of  wild rice on the west bank.  

Wild rice

I know it was ripe because I tested it with an easy rap of the paddle and a couple dozen grains landed in the canoe.  I continued a bit farther and then, feeling satisfied, crossed the river again and returned.

Wild rice grains