As September became October, we endured a number of wet, unusually cold days. So, the arrival of Indian summer this week has been particularly welcome. I left work early on Wednesday with plans to kayak with my wife, Gretchen.
I got home before her and set the kayaks on their caddies so we could roll them down the street to a neighbor’s house and put them in the Chester River just south of Morgan Creek. The creek winds its way past our backyard, but we’ve yet to paddle it.
With everything ready to go, I passed the time tossing a toy for Angus. As you’ve surely noticed, the sun is setting earlier and earlier each day, so I was eager to get on the water. I was growing impatient. Finally Gretchen arrived.
She got out of her car and I could tell from her body language that something was wrong.
“Did you see my car?” she asked.
I hadn’t noticed, but now I saw her fender was scuffed up and the plastic was cracked in one section. She explained to me that she’d been involved in a minor fender-bender. It wasn’t her fault and both she and the other driver were fine. There was minimal damage to both cars, but the other driver handled the situation with such levels of ineptitude and cluelessness that Gretchen’s blood was near boiling.
After she took care of filing a claim with her insurance company I asked her if she still wanted to paddle.
“I don’t know…” she trailed off and I could tell she was preoccupied.
“I think you should, it’ll do you some good.”
So we did.
When I was getting accredited with the American Canoe Association, I remember my teacher telling our class how he never felt quite right unless he was floating. Once Gretchen and I shoved off into the water, those words rang true.
As we paddled to the mouth of Morgan Creek, our thoughts and worries took a backseat to the present. Startled ducks shoot out of the marsh and hurried past us. High above geese honked; trumpeting their return to the region. Angus sat in the cockpit of my boat, desperate to get out and become a part of the scene.
We made our way up the creek as far as the blue bridge of Morgnec Rd. (Incidentally there is a public landing at this spot, should you wish to launch a kayak or canoe). The water is navigable for another 4.5 – 5 miles, depending on the tide. But, the sun was starting setting, so we began to make our way back.
The tunnels of phragmites lining our way were now cast in an auburn glow. Gretchen pointed out a bald eagle gliding over the water, looking for dinner. That’s a new addition to our neighborhood. I’ve been hearing one or two for the past few weeks, but this was my first sighting. The resurgence of this magnificent species is testament to the fact that even in the face of near disaster, concentrated human efforts can produce positive change.
We rounded the last corner and I gave Angus the “up up” command. He was out of the boat in a nanosecond and bounding his way through the shallow water towards the marsh. Gretchen and I burst into laughter watching him tear through the grasses like a tornado. I can only imagine the sensory overload he was enjoying. This was as wild a place as he’d ever been. Angus reemerged with a half eaten fish that an eagle must’ve dropped. It was displayed for a few moments before being swallowed in two bites. I’ve given up trying to keep him from consuming such treasures. A dog is going to be a dog.
We returned to the shore and lugged our kayaks back up to the roadway. I could see a couple with wine glasses in hand sitting on their patio, surrounded by tiki torches.
“Nice night,” I called to them.
“It sure is,” they responded.
You never know how many more of them we’re going to get. But I hope they’re doing as much for you as they are for me.
Susan Angell says
Beautiful post and video….but indian summer doesn’t occur until after the 1st frost.
Mary Wood says
Therapeutic even for those sitting at our computers. Years ago my husband and I canoed under the bridge as far as you could go. This brought back happy memories.