latest ever kayaked November 23 — Will we get out on the water in the month about to be born?
Meanwhile, for NJWILDBEAUTY readers, here are sketch notes of Saturday’s kayaking, thanks to splendid Steve of Princeton Canoe and Kayak at Alexander Road.
Ilene Dube, who launched me as a blogger with NJWILD at the Packet, had suggested we try for it, weather permitting. It did and we did.
Kayaking – Autumn Finale
Magnificent contrast of dark and light, gliding under the towpath and out into canal.
towpath ‘tunnel’ accentuated almost blinding effect of thousands of gold maple leaves, crisped and curled, newly afloat on bruise-dark water. In all those perfectly designed points of all those leaves, bubbles of water seemed captured, set like jewels. Crisp, gold, points Soft round bubbles Each bubble held its own rainbow all accentuated under Alexander Road Bridge
Canal water serene, yet almost scowlingly dark
1 fishermen, no fish “What did you catch?” “Nothing today.”
Not one turtle
Not a fish ring nor leap
No flowers anywhere
The frail mauve of sedum everywhere last time has been diluted by time and the season — somewhere between lavender fields past their prime and ashes of old fire on New England hearth
Bittersweet’s red/gold ornaments dangle from canalside trees, so that we can kayak through their tendrils
Tiny wind-driven wavelets hither and yon, what New Englanders call “williwaws”
Suddenly, the ‘bright-eyed’ Ilene spots a deer, lying down, peacefully, in canalside grasses, big dark eyes like chestnuts for the roasting. It makes a strange sound as she paddles nearer. “Do deer sneeze?”
Odd ominous taxicab-yellow curved pipes on either side of the deer, right alongside the canal — on their sides are letters spelling PETROLEUM
GOOD silent (!) canoeists glide by, skilled as Indians
so many people out on towpath, on foot, on bikes many wave and smile with such connection as we paddle by
occluded sky paints surface of the slate-colored water
now well south of Alexander — nothing human but our craft and paddles
so beautiful out here, my companion murmurs, I just want to stay forever, curl up, sleep on the water, wake to this
my kayak bumps over something hard and soft at once I laugh and say, “I’m glad we don’t have alligators here…” (which were everywhere during my Savannah year, and everyone warned me, “Don’t go near the water!”
maple leaves look cut by very sharp scissors from very substantial gold foils
beside my prow, a rosary of bubbles — fish? turtle?
Ilene, former Princeton Packet Editor, is a specialist in art in her current writing. This entire afternoon, we’ve been gliding through Impressionism
hope not final kayak of 2014…