Recharge
Coming up the big lake, it is golden eyes with an occasional bufflehead. There is a light chilly wind to my face and a bright warm sun on my back. At Potlatch Point, a flock of 1 dozen waits. It is half and half, buffleheads and golden eyes. I turn the corner into the bay and it is buffleheads. At the big lodge, I notice that the lake is 2 or 3 inches higher than it has been all winter. These 2 or 3 inches are a world of difference for a trip to this marsh. That extra low level this winter has barred me from a few of my favorite places to find something unexpected. I paddle into the east marsh's big dead end, a pathway through the cattails that reconfigured itself last summer and one that has been too shallow for me since November. As I prepare to sit a time between the cattails with the sun warming all, the first marsh wren of spring sings out its raygun buzzes and zaps. I hear whistling and catch the south nest eagles through the t...
