Perfect Day for a Paddle

Perfect!  That's the only way to describe the  Hudson River this exquisite morning, when I joined Ed Miller and some of his friends for a leisurely paddle. 

We put in at the boat launch below Spier Falls, then crossed the river to glide along under sun-warmed banks.  About a mile downstream, we crossed the river again to follow where the waters flowed around rocky promontories and tree-studded islands.

Because of high water levels due to excessive rainfall this summer and fall, we were able to paddle well back into a swamp  that was bordered by an abundance of Black Tupelo trees.  Unfortunately, most of these trees have had their trunks girdled by gnawing beavers and so are slowly dying, if not already dead.  I've often pondered why the beavers left the trees standing, since their usual habit is to topple trees to access the tender bark and twigs at the top.  My guess is that the beavers found the tough wood of the tupelos as difficult to penetrate as did early human settlers whose axes would simply bounce off the interwoven and cross-braided fibers of the timber.




 Those tupelos added just about the only vivid color to the forest today, what with our autumn foliage so long delayed this year.  Thankfully, the Winterberry shrubs are right on schedule with their brilliant berries.

A Summery Day, Early Autumn

 Summer came back for a few balmy days.  We reopened the windows, unpacked the shorts and tees, and I took my canoe to the Hudson for the first time in many weeks.  With, first, the spring floods and then, the summer hurricanes filling the river with roiling mud and rampaging flotsam this year, I think I got out on the river fewer than a dozen times this summer.  But as these calm-water photos show, it was safe to go back on the water today, and I jumped at the chance.  What bliss it was, to glide across these glassy waters, the sun warm on my back, the water sweet and cool to my trailing fingers.

The autumn foliage color is quite late this year, with just a tinge in some of the beeches and maples.  But Black Tupelos always put on a brilliant show, starting as early as August.  By now, their lipstick-red and emerald-green glossy leaves are joined by blue-black berries on hot-pink stems.

Winterberry is also in full display now, with fat red berries that will cling to the branches long after the leaves have withered and dropped and the berries are capped with snow.

I was afraid that I'd missed the Closed Gentians.  Because they grow so low on the banks, just inches above the water,  I thought they might have been swept away by the late-summer floods.  But there they were, right where I've found them for years, some of the flowers a little bruised, but as radiantly blue as ever.

How amazing to still find Cardinal Flower blazing away on the banks!

In the woods where I walked to get down to the river, mushrooms were still as abundant as the mosquitoes.  Some were so beautiful, I just had to stop to enjoy their colors and shapes.

This charming little clump of mosses, lichen, and polypody also caught my eye and caused me to linger long enough to take a photo.  How I love these miniature gardens!

Heading home, I pulled over to the side of the road to gaze at this majestic thunderhead. A burgeoning mass of snowy white against that blue sky, it looked, at first, like a huge cauliflower until its upper reaches began to spread out to make the anvil shape so typical of this kind of cloud.

As I sit to post this blog about 9pm, the thunder is rumbling outside and rain has begun.  I'm glad I took the opportunity to enjoy this sunny, summery day in my little canoe.  It may be a while before I can do it again.