365Caws is now in its 14th year of publication, and was originally intended to end after 365 days. It has sometimes been difficult for me to find new material, particularly during the winter months, but now as I enter my own twilight years, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to provide daily posts. It is my hope that along the way I may have inspired someone to a greater curiosity about the natural world. If so, I can rest, content in the knowledge that my work here has been done.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Alien Life Form
Day 18: Just when you think you've seen it all, Nature throws you a curve ball...one made out of some kind of aquatic weed. Floating just beneath the surface of Swofford Pond, I thought at first it was something man-made; however, as I paddled up to it, I could tell it was a vegetative structure. Swofford is full of weed (both invasive and native), but this was the only specimen of its kind.
Ten days have elapsed since my last kayak outing, and I was anxious to do some paddling despite cool morning temperatures. I loaded my gear in the car as soon as the thermometer registered 45°, thinking that an hour's drive would find it raised to a tolerable 50°. When I off-loaded the 'yak and went to get into my waders, I discovered that I'd grabbed my rain pants instead. "Oh, that's gonna be cold!" I said as I rolled up my trouser legs and put on a pair of rubber sandals, clearing my throat preparatory to using all my father's tractor-starting words as I waded in. Within half an hour, I was shedding my wool shirt, comfortable even in the shady niches of the south side of the lake. I wove my way through mazes of "shoestrings" (stems of some small waterlily-like plant), dragged milfoil off the paddles in gobs, put up a large flight of mixed ducks, and wreaked terror and havoc among a population of frogs which seemed to be hanging out with nothing but their eyes showing. I never saw one, only heard their great flops and splashes as the bow penetrated the floating jungle. I had the lake to myself, other than sharing it with the wildlife. Not a fisherman, not another paddler intruded into my sight. A full circuit of the lake accounted for three miles, but as I began a second lap, an unpredicted wind came up. "Enough for today," said I, "I'm going home."
No comments:
Post a Comment