One song ran through my mind over and over again as I paddled down a river I’d never been on before. “Up A Lazy River By The Old Mill Stream”. I knew my car would be waiting for me a few mile ahead. All along the river I saw a Great Blue Herons staring at the water, waiting for the exact moment to pounce on an unsuspecting fish. Flying overhead were a few Osprey, they spotted fish from high and would dive to catch one, then take it back to the next for the young. And occasionally I spotted a Bald Eagle. Waterfowl was abundant on this stretch of the uninhabited river.
“Life is good!” I thought, so I balanced my paddle across the gunwales while I retrieved my lunch from the day-hatch. A slow current kept me drifting downstream past some old piers, maybe once used by a ferry, or barge. It’d seen better days, now it was only rusting ironwork.