salt marsh

A return Memorial Day Weekend visit from the four sisters. I love these women, who pivoted from our initial plan out of Peachtree to the salt marsh, and then were good with me pivoting again when I got out to Oaks Creek because of the wind. I’m glad they got a low tide paddle this time, below the marsh grass and among the oyster beds, where great egrets were standing candlelike in the flats.   I took them up into the muddiest flats where the shrimp were being chased by redfish and the mullet jumped high. We turned around, our paddle blades gunked with pluff, and snapped pics of the bald eagle poising regally atop a live oak. I wasn’t about to get stuck in mud two days running, so we paddled back to the main channel, talking of everything under the Carolina sun. They bought a copy of the book, too, a gesture in line with their kindness and interest in our watershed, which after all, is their watershed, too.