Up the creek with a paddle...

I had just completed another rigorous shift of hammock duty, guarding the potato patch so I decided I should give myself a small reward. I went next door and borrowed a canoe from Mark Hobbs.

The off I headed to Little River. After launching the canoe, I spent a leisurely afternoon paddling up the lazy river. Once I got clear of the breezes bursting ashore off the bay the river turned placid even glassy. Little River is a meandering water that winds it way softly through a mixture of bogland and forest. Around every other bend water lilies hold up their golden blossoms for all to admire. Along the banks the iris adds a burst of indigo to the luxuriant green that dominates the edge between water and blue sky. Bank beavers maintain their rustic homes in and out of the river.

Following the lazy soft path of the waterway I float through the afternoon letting time slide away from me. The occasional deadhead keeps me from falling into a stupor. I am at peace.