Woles

Soul food

I hem and haw my way into motion having a project that I should work on but knowing that my soul needs to visit the marsh.  A minor head cold slowing me down sends me to the lake with the canoe in hand, walking the Harrison portage and paddling in a light chop caused by a low SE wind over the big lake.  A brilliant fall sun warms my back when the clouds move aside.

I spy pied billed, eared and western grebes, buffleheads and Canada geese.  Nothing great in numbers, just present and accounted for, everything important.


In the NE lagoon, I get out and check for tracks finding only one set, which may be from a opossum as one toe is unusually splayed out to the side, but it still might be a raccoon.  The other tracks were erased in last nights heavy rain.  The beaver aren't feeding inside the lagoon either.  Instead, it appears that they are working the edge of the swamp just outside the entrance.  Some of the cattails here are still green to the tip, which is odd as most cattails go brown at the end in early September.  This little lagoon is protected from wind and a bit warmer, and it may always be like that....I haven't paid enought attention...the difference between science and art, yet they can compliment each other so wonderfully.

As I cross the north shore, I notice that there seem to be fewer ducks in the bay than I would expect.  But, this may just be my memory not registering.  I'll worry about it in a month if more don't show up.  Just as I set my notebook down and take a stroke with the paddle, an otter appears near the tip of #1 island.  It's wet head is shining in the sunlight as it dips under a drift log, surfaces, and disappears around the point.


Near Broken Island, an eagle perches watching either me or the 500 coots that float halfway over to Marsh Island.

I take out in the south lagoons spotting a solitary northern pintail as I unload the canoe.