In the early morning, we launched our kayaks downstream against the tide. A bald eagle flew across the sky above us, a welcome, a good omen. All day it was cool and now and then a few rain drops would fall.
We saw small alligators, red winged blackbirds, terns, egrets, ibis and two osprey nests.
We paddled through old rice canals ringed with glorius brilliant sulfur yellow swamp flowers (which might be called swamp coriopsis). It was incredible to float there in a kind of round pond in the middle of the flower ringed marsh grass, a secret paradise.
Returning, the bald eagle watched us take out from his perch high in a dead tree.
In the old days, rum runners, armed with guns, drove their boats through this creek in the dead of night with their contraband loads of liquor, sometimes escaping the sheriff and sometimes being ambushed and caught red handed.
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