October Ducks

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I awoke to the sounds of gunfire:

Pop . . . Pop-Pop-Pop . . . Pop-Pop

I looked at the clock.  Sunrise was in 1/2 hour.  Yes, duck season had started.  Somewhere nearby a party was hunting (my guess is that there is a blind nearby, though I have not seen any on the river).

The weather has been unsettled.  It is calm, then windy.  It rains, then the sun breaks for a few minutes.

I paddled up the river.  The fall colors have been muted by the clouds.  Three is little boat traffic this time of year - the cool, wet weather seems to have calmed everything down.

We see mallards about all the time.  We can look out our windows to the river and see them dabbling about in the duckweed and millfoil.  As I paddle, I come across group after group.  Some are far enough away to feel safe.  Others fly upstream (where I will meet them again and again as I paddle that same direction).

I head into Sucker Brook.  It is narrow and overgrown.  Not the easiest place to turn a 17 foot kayak around.

I pass under the bridge and continue upstream.  The brook narrows considerably after a few hundred yards.

I turn about.  I came across a tree with 3 lures lost by unlucky fishermen.  They are mine now!

I head further up the river.  I see a deserted osprey nest.  I have not seen any for quite a while.  I did catch a few glimpses of great blue heron, but they are moving away also.

I came across 2 farm ducks.  Not sure if they are just taking a swim, or have escaped from parts unknown.

The river has a few islands.  The channel on one side of one of them is quite shallow and marshy.  It smells marshy and fetid.

Up at one end I found dozens of mallards.  It was a quiet place, safe from prowling hunters (and most kayakers).

I was getting cold. I headed back and came across a group of Canadian geese.  We don't see them as much now, though we hear them at night.

More mallards are about.  My presence make them take wing.

Just before I ended my paddle I came across this hornets nest.  Wow!  Good thing they are going dormant now.

I don't see any ducks this moment as I look across the river.  I expect they will be here for a while.  I am interested to see when they fly away.

Preface

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There is a line from at the end "A River Runs Through It" that always stays with me -

I am haunted by waters . . . 

As a child I loved to watch it flow, even if it was the snow melting in the street. There was nothing more fascinating than a walk down by the banks of the neighborhood brook.

In time I came to know bigger, more energetic waters.  I would fsh the big river with my dad and family in the Spring.  As I got old enough to wade in the icy water, I could feel the force of the angry river.  Unlike the brook of my childhood, it was powerful and stern.

I was always fascinated with the quieter pools and eddy's.  There in the green / brown places was life.  Fish, frogs, birds, turtles, insects, and plants.  This was where you could scoop up a handful of life in all its forms.

As I got older I had the chance to see the ocean and salt water bays.  They too held life.  The sound of the waves and tides were new to me.  I loved it at once.

I especially love the smaller freshwater places.

I would paddle and fish in much of it.  My favorite was the still water, I call it the Brown Water.  It seemed gentle on the surface, but it hid its secrets.  The freestone rivers and brooks may have had some trout, chubs, minnows crayfish and nymphs, but the brown water had more varieties of fish, birds and insects.

I still love being on the big water, especially where is meets the brown water.

I am also haunted by waters . . .