The River below the floating clouds

I haven written many times about the ridge line and a couple of entries ago shared some photos of the clouds over the valley. Yesterday morning the kayak and I visited the river below. At 7AM the sun is up but the mist is still on the water It is really to beautiful and complex to capture on my basic camera but much still comes through the lenses.

The Housatonic is a meandering river, taking quite a while to cover not much distance as the bird flies. The twists and turns have it sometimes going east and west and in reverse directions and many oxbows and side pools to explore and wander. When taking it slow and checking these out the only constant landmark is the ridge. Loosing sight of it and you can easily be turned around and be heading from where you just came. With a state forest on one side and wetlands on much of the other this stretch of the river seems more remote than it really is. The presence of years of PCB pollution buildup in the sediment means that the fish are large because they are always thrown back and the water is not for swimming or drinking. But by just looking around one would never know what is hidden amongst this beauty.



The river is quite but by no means silent. The sound of birds that I wish I could distinguish; the families of ducks sensing my approach; making the call and moving quickly away; the cluck of a beautiful white swan; the click and splash of turtles entering the water; the birds and other unseen creatures thrashing in the brush; the croak of bull frogs; the geese and the splashing trout. It is all a rhythm of its own, a symphony of parts weaving with the sounds of the water and wind. There aren’t many humans but on this morning a couple of canoe racers come through, the rhythmic “hut” of the one directing the paddling, swift and slicing through the water behind beside and ahead. A while longer a pair of canoes come through and creates a wake as they pass. The sound of “hut” slowly disappears in the distance.



The paddling is smooth on the main channel of the river, the current is there but on this section it is strengthened mainly by the direction of the wind. While it isn’t very deep, sections of the middle and edge have so many years of sediment and weed build up that even a kayak has difficulty floating across without getting stuck



Returning back to the launch I spot the swan that I heard, floating smoothly in their own noble way in one of the side ponds, visible just through a slit in the bush. Just the sound would reveal it is there.


The sun is higher the mist is gone and the human life beginning to arrive at the railway museum near the launch. The sound of the train floats across the quiet of the pond, not disturbing just mixing. Morning has begun.