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It is not an hour past low tide when S and I set out on the East River.  We are down in the river, unable to see up and over the salt marsh spartina grass...It is a narrow world compared to the high tide trips when one looks out over a broad marsh that really looks much more like a meadow.  But, it is still early in the morning and the osprey and willets are very active.  Young osprey are still in the nest, not yet ready to fly, and the adults are beginning to head out looking for fish.   The willets are coming out of the grass and down onto the mud banks, also looking for food.  They scold us some, but most are more wary than alarmed. 

As always with a new bow person, I run the list of birds as we see them.  As usual, I am assumed to be a bird watcher, but S quickly figures out that I just know the birds that happen to be where I happen to be. 

great egret

The low tide lets me point out some of the obsolete modifications that man has made...the dike feature (that may have been a road or railroad bed)...the rock pile (possibly the remains of a farmer's ford).  But, the tide is too low to show her the mid 19th century stone dam that hides back up against the forest.

Then we begin to talk about art, and about ourselves and each other.  As usual, it is a bonding trip...I don't think I have ever come across a better way to meet a person than to share a canoe with them.