- srcarlson717
- Nov 8
- 2 min read
The leaves are heavy on the river. They scrape along the side of the kayak and get stuck on the bow where they push the water as we move through it. Occasionally, a curled-up leaf will catch the wind and plot its own course while its water-soaked companions have no choice but to follow the current.
Ever observant, Jeff will spot a nearby clump of chopped up leaves and grass from someone who lives upstream. To him, they are little monsters or at least something mysterious to keep an eye on.
Every season has a oh-I-guess-its-whatever-season-now moment. Fall’s is when I first notice the leaves on the river. There are always leaves out there, but when you start to notice them, even if it’s sunny and warm, it’s Fall.
It makes sense that the beginning of Winter has to do with the temperature and the day that I need to wear ALL of the clothes on the water, and gloves, and a scarf and my long johns is Winter’s arrival. We're not there… yet.
Back to the leaves for Spring. Winter scours everything off of the trees, but over the course of the season, the trees and bushes produce millions and millions of leaf-buds, waiting for that day when they open ever so slightly. And, bam! The trees all have volume. It’s one of my favorite moments on the river. One day the branches are thin and empty, the next they have weight. Spring is here.
The first day of river-Summer is an easy one. Shorts and t-shirts. The paddleboard. And Leigh and the crew out getting their chill on Adirondack style in the shallows on the far side of the Conestoga.
Jeff and Ms. Cha Cha get their chill on too.

Jeff and Ms. Cha Cha getting their chill on.




