February 20, 2005

Migration

Distant hands in foreign lands
Are turning hidden wheels
Causing things to come about
Which no one seems to feel
All invisible from where we stand
The connections come to pass
And though too strange to comprehend
They affect us nonetheless, yes

As I unloaded the kayak from the car I couldn't help notice the still water. The sky reflecting in the water made it seem to have miles of depth with the only imperfections being the ripples caused by a few geese 100 feet from shore.

I paused for a few minutes to contemplate putting my kayak in the water. To disturb it in this state didn't seem right, but after a few minutes a flock of geese came in to stir up the tranquility.

Once again a time of change
O the change makes music
And the children will dance

I began paddling south around the 'neck' of Mason Neck. It has been some time since paddling this direction and I wanted to check for any changes over the last 3-4 months. A gorgeous day with almost no wind, I turned on the MP3 player to set everything to music as I paddled.

I caught a flash out of the corner of my eye and turned to watch 2 mature Bald Eagle's swooping toward the water and sending the ducks below them scrambling to get away. The eagles skimmed the surface of the water and then turned back to blend in to the trees.

See the pieces of the picture rearrange themselves
It feels just like a symphony to me,
With nothing left to chance

On reaching Sandy Point I saw 2 more mature eagles sitting in the trees overlooking the point and before long I realized this was a non-resident population fishing along this shore. Before I reached my turnaround point I would count 8 mature and 3 juvenile eagles.

Long before I reached High Point I could see the heron rookery. With no leaves in the trees, what seemed like over a hundred nests stood out against the blueish white wispy clouds. I thought forward to early spring when this area would be full of gawking herons when I noticed a heron carrying twigs in its beak. The building has already started for spring, and the closer I looked the more pairs I saw in the nests getting ready for the spring brood.

Just look over your shoulder
It's out of you hands
It's over for now
Leave behind what you can
You can always return

Around High Point a bit more I inspected the old park dock, then turned back toward the launch. Ahead of me I saw a mature eagle leave a tree and head several hundred feet out over the water. It zeroed in on its prey and reached out to pluck it from the water with its claws. As soon as it lifted from the water a juvenile took flight and started to pester the elder before finally giving up and landing a few trees away.

The rhythm remains unbroken
Unspoken but loud and clear
It's a slow vibration. Migration

At Sandy Point another eagle is tearing in to its lunch up in a tree, and 3 more eagles are fluttering around trying to get him to drop whatever it is he has. It's been an exciting paddle and I regretted leaving the camera at home.

I'm paddling my Sirocco today. It's been on the car since Nelson and I were running our kayaks up on the ice a few weeks ago. The Sirocco is a little sluggish as compared to the Explorer, and it is a chore to paddle in a high wind, but today she reminds me how much I still like this boat. The bow rudders and hanging draws all the way back to the launch helped prolong the day that I was enjoying so much.

Mystery muse, how I hunger for an answer
Unsung song, how I long to play the changes
Hidden rhythm, haven't I always been your dancer
Sacred secrets of the meaning to my dreaming. Migration
--James Taylor