Otter

Dip of paddle, blue of sky, murmur of campground sounds receding as pine-bristled slopes slip by. Pale yellow silty muck wavering through green waters. Chat of junco, resounding rat-tat-tat of flicker, shadow of kingfisher clicking, flick of fin. Cool air hangs above the water, sunlight beams hot and intense from above. I nose between fallen trees, my kayak awkward – a straight, unyielding sixteen feet that has none of the give and curl of most of the bodies that navigate these shores.

Read more here