Thursday, October 25, 2018 720 am 48 degrees
On my way to Fair Oaks Bridge I see deep pinks reflected in clouds. By the time I reach the bridge deck, the pinks have faded away into a soft golden glow at the horizon. Bright white, wispy clouds are my first sights of the morning. Clouds reflect in the still water. I wear my hooded fleece jacket for the first time since the first months of the year.
Five boats line the river channel on the east side. Occasionally, I hear a splash, see concentric circles in the water and guess that salmon are jumping. Three ducks swim down the center of the river corridor.
One duck quacks relentlessly. I wonder if she is giving directions? Is she the one that quacked and quacked without taking a breath last January and February? She quacks and quacks without stopping. As I write she is still chattering without end.
I see concentric circles in the water where salmon are jumping. Every few minutes, another one leaps. Once the duck stops quacking, the birds started to sing. Today I see my first glimpse of mist rolling on the water around the bend. As I write, a Great Blue Heron flies in and lands on a rock on the east riverbank. Minutes after the Great Blue Heron appears, an Egret flies in, landing on the west side of the bridge.
