A Night of Nothing

Anything happening on the river?

Well… not really. At least not last night. 

Oh, we (Jeff and I) did have a moment with the black and white cat that hangs out on the stretch by the house. Typical stare-down. Jeff sat attentively, focused on the cat and the cat tracked us as we went by. We see this cat quite often nestled among the roots on the bank or hanging out on a rock just a short jump from the bank. The rock in question is perfectly shaped for a cat and it has to be one of the best adapted hang-out spots on the river. The best is still the hammock along Slackwater road.

Just moments after leaving the cat behind, we were hailed by Ouija who was apparently keeping an eye on the river from his back porch. Jeff returned the greeting and this was accompanied by some longing whimpers. Jeff loves Ouija.

As if taking their cue from Ouija, the blue jays chimed in.  Two different calls were on offer and the sheer number of individuals/calls made it seem like the whole place was rife with jays. Apparently a group of jays is called a party - sounded like one. 

While the blue jays were doing their thing, we saw a pair of mourning doves walking the bank. They mirrored each other's movements as they walked back and forth in short bursts, heads pumping as they did so. 

And then there were the feathers - tons of them. Likely goose feathers, these were smallish and sign that the geese have been hanging out past the bend at Rocky Springs. The geese never really leave, but their increased frequency overhead and the mass of feathers on the water is definitely a harbinger of fall.

The most exciting moment aside from riding the “rapids” was smacking into a submerged log. Jeff has gone overboard in similar instances, but last night he kept his footing following what was pilot error. After the second stare down of the trip, we left the matter behind us and Jeff settled into his usual spot on the bow of the boat. 

There were herons and egrets (pair in a tree) and hawks and others. One of the herons allowed us to get close before squawking its way downriver. Otherwise, the herons have been pretty quiet as of late. The same cannot be said of the eastern wood-pewee which is always out there making some noise. 

And there was the second barking dog down by the haunted house - and the yelling owner. And the sunset and the breeze and the time away from the normal. 

Tonight when we go out on the river, the same thing will happen: nothing. Thing is, is that tonight's set of nothing will be completely different from yesterday’s nothing. 

I can’t wait to see what that is.

Nothing to see here.

3.3? No Matter

The Conestoga River is on the upper range of low at 3.3 feet. This despite a few rain events in the last couple of weeks. Maybe that’s what it takes to keep the river from the 2.7-2.9 range we experienced last summer, but it would be awesome to hit 3.9.

It’s not as if low water has a negative effect on one’s overall experience, and while the river has never been so low that I couldn’t go out, it’s nice to have the push. That and the fact that rock exposure in the “rapids” becomes less of a factor make higher numbers welcome.

We have seen levels as high as 21 feet at the house and at that point trees, benches, and all sorts are carried by what becomes a chocolate milk-like stew. Twenty-one feet will allow for paddles over the lawns where we live, but things are a bit too swirly at that point. There is just too much in the water to really want to go out. 

When things do calm down a bit, it’s go time! Not only is the water extremely fast, but when the water is super high, one is afforded a totally different view from the water. It’s like the difference between driving a car and being in the cab of a semi for the difference in perspective. From there you can see over the bank, spy the path, and see things you normally can’t.

But until a major rain arrives, I’ll just keep it steady at 3.3. There, higher or lower - no matter. Paddle again. Paddle better. 

See you on the river!

The river at an upswing.

Take a Photo, Yo!

Can’t tell you how many times I have taken what turns out to basically be the same Conestoga River photo. Most of these feature my paddle-partner Jeff.

I’ll be coming around a bend, or the light will be something amazing, or it’s just Jeff on the water, and I’ll pause and snap a pic. Aside from checking out the day’s collection to post something on the Instagram account, I don’t ever really look at them beyond the day or even delete anything. Suppose that’s why Google keeps telling me I’m almost out of memory. Thanks, Google. 

All one needs to do to see that I take the same photos all of the time is look at conestogia on Instagram. 

I’d wager that there are numerous photos of the stretch to Rocky Springs, tons of the bend right there at the old amusement park, a bunch with the haunted-house sycamore in the distance, and the quarry stretch, and the rapids stretch and a few of the rapids/house at the end. You either get Jeff in the photo or you don’t; the only options really. 

But… as is true for photos in general, they don’t really capture what is happening on the river. They are static - static representations of a dynamic entity. The photos are flat while the river is alive.

Maybe that’s why they mostly just sit there. They can stand as a reminder of what was experienced, but for all of the time spent collecting them, my photos of the river lie dormant and are ineffective in eliciting the feelings or experiences that inspired me to take them in the first place. 

Having said all that, how about a photo?

The rapids and house. No Jeff.