A shower today has brought some long needed relief from many hot days. A soft steady rain pattered off of the roof and driveway, most of the night and into late morning. I chose to give my potato plants a drink two days ago, as they were looking mighty droopy. I have two separate plantings of taters, one here at my place and another at my brothers. He dropped by yesterday to inform me that some red and black bugs have eaten every last leave off of those plants. That planting was my second attempt at his place, the first batch of taters drowned in all of the spring rain. It’s a good thing that I planted a backup plot. Now I’ll keep a keen eye out for munching bugs.
This week yielded my first harvest of green beans, 3 quarts. My pepper plants have some small peppers hanging, with an ample supply of blossoms at the ready. We have been enjoying some nice summer squash, cooked in every fashion. Some have been dipped in olive oil, salted with sea salt and grilled. Others have been fried with onions and red peppers to a golden brown, dripping with butter. Sandy made a casserole last year with cheese that was out of this world! I look forward to that treat again this week, but probably won’t get it until company comes. Sandy limits much of her cooking attention to visitors; her culinary efforts make for a memorable visit. After nearly 37 years of marriage I have at least learnt a thing or two from her in food preparation and presentation. Her appetite may not be what it once was but her expectations have not changed!
I have a goal of getting in 100 rides on the River, in the Lyman before ice up this fall. Consequently I have been on the River most every day; fishing, sight seeing or cruising the shore line, during sunsets. Last week I ventured out on a very calm surface, to a glimmering setting sun near the east end of Wolfe Island. It was a breath taking experience, so much different from the sunsets that I enjoy from the dock. I felt as though I was somewhere else, watching an orange crowned horizon grace the tree tops lining the island. A freighter came up bound and I motored near her side to listen to her heart beat. The throbbing engine and a soft wake were the only sounds. Her rolling wake caused the Lyman to bob as I watched the long ship fade into the sun, with her night lights glowing.
Another glowing object caught my eye while fishing near Carleton Island. A long necked white bird flew by with long wing beats. It was leaving the island and heading to Canada. I grabbed my camera and fumbled with getting it set up. My fingers must be larger than those used by the designers of the camera. I have a tendency to hit buttons that stall the process and build a narrative of explicative disapproval to the process. That aside I did manage to get a decent photo of the great white bird. It had the silhouette of a blue heron and flew like one to a tee, only it was pure white!
When I was young I saw what turned out to be a “great egret” at my fishing hole. I was able to identify that bird with the aid of a neighbor who had a Peterson guide to the birds. I was sure that I had found the rarest of all “herons” and was disappointed to discover it was not one. This time I have more questions than answers. In my own Petersons guide I discovered that there is a “little blue heron” which stands 24” tall and has different color phases. The adult is blue and brown but the immature bird is all white. My sighting may have been of an immature little blue, maybe. The guide shows them to wander this far north at times. From my perspective the bird that I photographed looked to be much larger than 24.”
It looks like I have my work cut out for me. I’ll have to spend more time on that side of Carleton Island to see if I can confirm my sighting. With an excuse like that, getting to 100 trips on the River should be an easy number to attain. Oh, the sacrifices I have to make to meet my goal may seem daunting to some, I’ll endure …somehow. While I’m there I’ll probably do a bit of fishing… just to pass the time.
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