Friday, February 9, 2018 8 am 46 degrees
Warm day, sun high, birds are twittering from nearby trees. The level of water at the American River is so low and still, an island has formed around the branch where turtles sunbathe. The Egret takes it usual place on the riverbank. The pigeons are absent.
A collection of spider webs are attached to bridge rails. I wonder does a spider have a map in its head to create such complex webs? As I listen to the call of a single seagull call, I think of the 100 gulls crowded on a small island at Jim’s Bridge. Most have left this part of the river. Everyday I listen for the quacks of the female Mallard raising her voice on the river. Buffleheads skim the water as they take off flying. They move far too quickly to capture in a photo.
As I walk to the boat launch ramp, a hiker atop the Fair Oaks Bluffs calls to me, “Hey. There is a seal in the river!” I see its head just above the water. The seal dives and comes out of the water much too far away to see clearly. Where did the seal come from? What wrong turn led it so far from the coast?
