That One of Yours, Grey Owl?

I paddled at dusk yesterday. The tree-lined shores were dark and mysterious as were the waters beneath the over-hanging branches. I knew the area well, but still, I had to be careful. There were snags lurking, waiting to push my boat suddenly aside and possibly tip me over.

Suddenly, just to my right, a loud slapping sound, rustling water and then quiet ripples circled outwards lapping my hull. A beaver! On my return, another SLAP! The beaver's still around and watching for me.


A beaver? This morning I paddled the same route in bright sunshine. Yes, I'd known there was an old beaver lodge stuck underneath an old cabin that has to remind one of Grey Owl and his pets. If you look carefully, you can see part of the cabin just above and to the right of the pile of sticks marking the beaver lodge. I never thought there were still beavers living in this lodge. Well, I guess there are. At dusk, at least!

Ten days, 10 paddles of at least an hour in length and often more. Today I paddled in wet, clammy clothes. You'd think I was on an expedition the way I felt as I pulled them on! In fact, it was my forgetfulness, leaving them in the car overnight and not bringing fresh, dry stuff. I never thought of this challenge as an expedition, but hey, why not! LOL