salt marsh

It was just me and Starla from New Mexico (by way of Chapel Hill), and with the tide high and the sky overcast and not a breath of wind, the water was as flat and calm as I can remember it ever being. We crossed the flats and snuck up on two twin bald eagles perched like gargoyles on twin dead oaks, looking at each other like they were having a staring contest. We circled around the back creeks and came upon four roseate spoonbills on the old hurricane-torn Nature Center dock. One yawned. We pretty much had the beautiful morning all to ourselves—I was surprised by the lack of weekend boat traffic—and we were able to take some side creeks that I normally stay away from. Starla said it was a ten-star day, and I had to agree. She also said she could drift along forever out in the salt marsh, and I had to agree with that, too!