At eight PM I drove with Sally down 24th W. to the park and headed down to the river. Recent rains of a week ago had the river flowing at a good volume.. not out of its lowest banks.. but filled full across and a rich dark carmel with all the silt it carried.
We set out taking the SW route closer to the river from the end of the concrete junk slab piles and entered young cottonwoods head high. The air was filled with a soft sweetness, like a cheap grape soda. I could not see any flowers and I am guessing the sweet odor was from the opening of the cottonwood buds. I remember Populus cottonwoods out west smelling like sun tan lotion.
Twilight was approaching. All the ATV crowd was gone. We had the place to ourselves except for the creatures that lived there. We crossed tracks of beaver dragging cut branches and possibly turtle tracks in the wet sand. A pack of coyotes sang sweetly for a minute or two across the river.
Leaving the cottonwoods we left the sweet odor and regained a more open view of the river.
With the advent of warmer weather and the return of abundant tick populations to favorite woodland walks, I think I'll shift to evening and morning river walks. Get my binoculars ready. No wading birds this evening.. already gone to roost.
I walked the 15 minutes down to the furthest point of easy river shore and stood to watch the evening light leaving the trees on the opposite shore with twilight coming in. Above a clear Venus and dim Mars were up in the sky but not the gibbous moon yet.
We returned via the NE side of the oval river trail passing the deep sand pit road with water standing a few inches deep there.. but no mosquitoes. The Woods were active with mosquitoes earlier this afternoon.
In bloom were yellow Oenothera but blossoms closed for the evening. The view of the trees on the far bank in the last light reminded me .. the hour of seeing. When the distraction of color disappears the underlying form of everything can be seen for the first time.
