The Father of Waters

OUT ON THE FATHER OF WATERS for the first paddle of the year. Skirting the ice shelves, dodging a few ‘bergs,’ unintentionally scaring the Bluebills and Goldeneyes, listening to the whistle of their wings. Watching them circle back again. The Canada geese also take great exception at my presence—although it is a very pretty canoe, and I have on my best canoeing hat. I apologize, but not very sincerely. It is good to be on the water once again.

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