It is a Green Day

Paddling through the south lagoon, I spot two people watching me from the shore. The woman is smiling. The man comes over to the bridge that leads to the burial island and compliments me, "it's nice to see someone who knows how to paddle a canoe". We talk a while, we're both from canoe country and we both like small fourth of July rodeos. ...never know where a canoe will take you.
But, today is a green day. It is clouded over and a light rain falls keeping the toy ships safe at harbor and out of my way even though it is a Sunday in June. Today's color palette is green. The cattails are full height now and the wall they create is green. The trees are leafed out adding a green cornice to the walls. The water reflects green, where it isn't decked by plate sized green lily pads and dapples of frog moss. Only the smallest of purple flowers and the brown of the beaver chewed trees dare to violate the design. Even the lilies themselves are tucked away in their green pods, the clouds so heavy that they haven't opened for the day.

This spring, the green is moving. The east marsh is definitely on the move. The cattail island that several weeks ago spread some seventy feet and became a peninsula, has now calved off a new smaller island of maybe a 1000 square feet. There are new channels on the west side of the beaver forest and the main entrance is threatening to close itself off. It is rare to see changes on a daily basis and I am just too curious to see where everything will be when the low water of winter finally sets the bog in place.

I circle the bay and while I do, the wind picks up, and the rain gets heavy. I get wet and I don't mind one bit.