Warm, plant-scented, humid air. Inch and a half of rain day and a half ago. Dew on the tall Johnson grass and sunflowers as I walk down the old jeep road to the river. Rich herb odor from Ambrosia giant ragweed(?) The cry of a red-tailed hawk hunting or circling over the over-grown gallery forest of cottonwood and red-osier dogwood.
I can't remember ever regretting a trip to the river. Getting down there often is an effort of will. But it is easy, just 1.5 miles down one road and I am there. It is an effort like life, every day is an effort; but the rewards are rich and wonderful. The fresh green small leaves and rich purple flowers of Verbena. The ranks of tall, yellow-blooming Oenothera, evening primrose. The pale white small morning glory-shaped flowers of Heliotropium
The clean light sand of the levee path had been cleared and reset by the rain. The few tracks there were new from animals last night or yesterday. I took off my flip flops and walked into the turbid water. This morning, the river was up waist-deep and running turbid, brown, filled with chalky red silt. A pair of green herons flew up from the river bank to the bare old cottonwood snag standing on the far side. They remained with me for my hour, at a safe distance. Maybe they were curious.
On the far (SW) side a quieter backwater channel had a fresh layer of clay capping and covering the more anoxic sediments below. Methane bubbled up here and there as I stepped through. At the shallower end, two turtles watched warily, only their snouts visible above the surface. They ducked quickly under, long before I was close enough to see more. A narrow, frequently-used, muskrat path crossed the soft mud mini-levee and ascended into vegetation. At the upstream end of the backwater, a gaggle of calopterygid damselflies were flitting and lighting on twigs and branches of the old tree hanging over and into the water. American rubyspot, Hetaerina.
Walking back into deeper, faster flow; I let myself drift, just barely touching the bottom with my backside and steering by dragging one finger on the sand I was floating above. What a luxury ride! With no effort, to be floating silently pass the nearby wonders on the bank. A turtle's-eye view.
A sudden rub of a smooth, powerful body against my foot was an unseen fish I surprised in the turbid water, dashing away.
Down river, the stronger current carried me above the deeper water and I swam 20 feet, to reach the sand bar hidden in the middle of the river. I ascended from chin deep and chest deep water to waist deep and then mid calf. Beautiful to stand in the middle of the flowing river and watch white cattle egrets flying down the river past me.
Out, up on the bank, I passed a few nests of turtle eggs, or what remained, the white, parchment-like shells of turtle eggs. Most of these nests had been discovered and dug up by some predator, a racoon?
Back through the willows and young cottonwoods and on my way out, going back home again. Richer for the hour with the morning and the river.
