He and I have much the same rituals even with 1300 miles between us.....we visit our respective rivers, his the Animas and mine the Des Plaines, virtually every day. He goes to ply a few trout from the water, and I go to converse with the river and my hound. The differences between the two waters however, are enormous. The Animas is a churning, rumbling, insane torrent, while the Des Plaines is muddy, slow, and generally quiet. I have a hard time thinking at the Animas; I can't seem to locate my thoughts over the roar of the water making its way over the rocks. I am sure EJ thinks a lot while coaxing his fish, but there must be a good measure of diligence involved. After ten years, he probably doesn't even hear it anymore.
One day a few years ago, while stopped at a gas station with my kayak on the top of the Subie, a stranger commented that he couldn't believe I was going to get into the "filthy" water of the Des Plaines river. I told him that the water was only the color of mud because the water flowed over mud. The quality of a watershed can be measured differently at different sites, but the stretch of river that I kayak and walk produces stoneflies, mayflies, caddis, as well as a number of other insects.....the presence of each being an indicator of the good health of the river. While most of the DP water runs over mud, there are sections with sandy and rocky floors, where the caddis and mayflies live until their day comes to float to the surface, ride the water until they've shed their shucks, and take wing. That's when things get sketchy....if they make it out of the water (and often they do not) there are the cedar waxwings to deal with once in the air. But I'll save that story for June, when it is more phenologically appropriate.
I am now thinking I would like to have EJ's input here and see him share this with me, if only voicing his thoughts occasionally, but I am not holding out. He's not a fan of stuff like this, I don't think. I never was either, and am still not sure about it, but for one thing, it's making my convoluted thoughts look a hell of a lot prettier. Vanity.
So this is my invitaion to you brother....we could merge our addled thoughts from each side of the Rockies and call it a conversation. What say you?
Indeed...
ReplyDeleteI will add what little I can. The river is different now and those things that believed warmth would not come are sated. The first Baetis bicaudatus was seen emerging and carrying flight over the film. So recent is its emergence, the trout paid it no mind and they were able to wheel about unmolested.
Two weeks ago the first Robin called out from the cottonwood overhanging a homeless tent. Beneath it said wanderer tending fire and glad the snow has been burned away from his yard.
The rainbows are beginning to leave their holts and stack with in the throats, before they ascend into riffles of cobble and sand to mate in two weeks. South, with in the San Juan it has already begun as evidenced by their coloration and kype.
The snow has peeled off the southern exposure and even dust at times will flare up as the paradox of cold and warm battle.
Soon this desertscape will return and the collared lizard will come out for mating and the taking of lazy hoppers. But before then, more cold, snow and indeed death will have to be meted out. We are undernourished with water as of now and snow is necessary to keep from fire restrictions and backcountry hikes with out flame and shadow.
That is for later. Now though we watch the birthing unfold and hope those that are with out shelter and caution do not venture too far. Cause it ain't over yet.