A Day for Not Talking

The Elf Forest comes at me with a myriad of scents - the smell of stale wood smoke, perhaps the leftovers of stove burning last night to warm a cool evening, something that has settled here in the lowest of places.  Then, it slides sideways for the sharp taste of a dry forest floor carried down on the heavy cool air...which way is the wind blowing?  ........downhill....the physics of shady forested hillsides.  Then, just for a few seconds, an opening appears and the damp decay of the marsh plays a brief solo.

Entering the Elf Forest

The Elf Forest going golden with the arrival of fall is coming at me with something for each of my senses.
Something is approaching at my right, behind my shoulder...


After I have left the Elf Forest, I pass on oncoming canoe.
"Nice day," he says.
"It sure is," I reply.

I explore another side channel.

I spot two more kayaks coming my way.  It would be rude as shit to not greet them.  But, talking has been a distraction.  So, I circle quickly and enter a side channel that I had just passed hoping that they do not follow me.  I go to the end and return, maybe a 1/3 of a mile.  They have passed, but not by much.  I stay silent and head on my way.  It is a day for not talking.