The river is down. Lower than it has been in many months. Down and more interesting with its bank exposed. More dramatic; the current’s signature written in the topography of the gravel shoals. Hidden secrets revealed.

This morning, the wind painted the water with invisible brushes. The breeze was brisk; harmless at the back, brisk and edgy in the face. But the views were spectacular.

At low water, the river becomes a gathering place for the wildlife that the higher water keeps away. Heron. Geese. Kingfishers. Sharp-shinned hawks. And eagles. Four sightings; at least three different individuals. In trees, feeding on the bank, swooping low. All right there for the eye…at least until they decided that the human was too close.

That moment of connectedness. Of being filled. Of the-rest-of-the-world-goes-away. A realization, yet again, that seeing in nature is a combination of good fortune and persistence going in, with quiet gratitude at the other end.

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