Some Days are Simply Perfect

I had just taken a picture of a hairy woodpecker  and my cousin called to see if I wanted to go down to Jones Falls. Of course I did! It was a magically perfect day. One in which you could watch a heron come in and land, and another  prune itself. You could  smell the hemlocks by the water, talk of the pioneers, of ghosts, have a picnic at Jones and to every person say how blessed we are to live on the Rideau. We went off channel and coursed the bays of Sand and Opinicon Lake. We slipped by the Fleming homestead and Queens Biological Station. We stayed off the shoals and talked of bent props and catching two four pound bass on one last frog. Come with me to see the herons, the ancient stumps now relics of land drowned. Thank you Alan Fleming— my dear cousin.

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