Peace and Quiet

I needed peace and quiet this morning and the towpath delivered in spades. It was cold, but not bitter. The canal was shrouded in mist and the water was glazed with a thin slurry of ice. There was a whisper of wood smoke in the air. Far away, I could hear the piercing cry of a hawk. Every now and then, a chorus of honking geese flew overhead in v-formation.

Along the canal, white tree trunks reached up like clawed hands to scratch the belly of the sky. Across the river, a variegated forest stood, mysterious. We stopped to watch a cardinal on the far side of the canal. We heard the crunch of leaves as a small herd of deer marched single file through the undergrowth. Every now and then, we spotted a head or hoof, but they stayed out of sight for the most part.

I turned to scan the river and spotted an eagle perched low on the far bank. As I watched him, another mature eagle swooped down and soared up the river and out of site. Chuck and I watched the remaining eagle for a long time. We were lucky to see it leave its perch and fly up to sit in clear view in the branches of a towering sycamore. Finally, it took flight and disappeared with a few powerful flaps of its wings and we moved on down the trail.