The Beauty and Creatures of the RiverWorld

Our area on Dawson’s Creek is a beautiful and peaceful location.  The gulls, of course, frequent the area as they dive for fish or float on the water.  We attended a band concert in a park on the river one Sunday afternoon, and as they began their John Philip Sousa selections, the gulls seemed to dance in the air above our heads, adding to the entertainment.

There are several varieties of birds, some I cannot identify without help.  We have the usual crowd of woodpeckers, hordes of cardinals, red-winged blackbirds, and other birds one sees in the south.  One evening Richard was treated to a particularly captivating scene as he sat on the deck; he watched as an osprey caught a fish in the creek, flew to a tree beside the guesthouse, and ate his fill.  Finishing the meal, it dropped the remains and flew away.

And we have the resident Great Blue Herons.

We would watch as this spectacular bird would fly over the creek from the woods in the early morning; and on the dock around dusk, we could here it coming over the marsh grasses and spot it flying about 2 to 3 feet from the surface of the water, heading again for the woods.  Other times we have come within about 50 feet of it, as we headed for the camp dock, where it was sitting at the end on the back of a bench.  As we walked the paths through the camp one would start squawking from its cover and take somewhat awkward flight over the creek, transforming itself into a creature of graceful flight.

While we sat on the deck of the guesthouse, and the sun sank below the tree line over the creek one late March evening, we were the privileged observers of a fishing expedition.  In the sluice beside our deck, the Blue Heron waded in the water and fished for supper.  We sat out until dark, watched him fish over his limit, and listened to all the other bird voices.

Another big fellow is the Great Horned Owl, who, from 20 feet away, appears to be approximately 3 feet tall standing on the ground, among the trees in the middle of the camp.  It has a penchant for displaying the tremendous wingspan, and then takes flight as we come closer.  There was a time when we had not seen him all winter and had been curious as to his whereabouts.  As we returned home one evening and pulled into the entrance, he flew from one of the trees along the main driveway as if he was waiting for us, perhaps trying to reassure us that he was not far away.  On most mornings during our stroll around the property, we would hear, then see a juvenile Great Horned Owl, going from tree to tree before we reached its current perch.

Other birds that capture our attention, especially at dusk, are the Eastern Screech Owls with their eerie calls shuddering our spines!  We would stand on the deck of the guesthouse, while one would call from the south woods in the camp, and just behind us in the north woods, another would answer, going on like that for quite some time.

Mercifully, only certain years bring the cicadas with their cacophony; one could go crazy with that constant commotion.  While traipsing through the woods one hot summer afternoon, we spied a rattlesnake, and of course gave it wide berth!  Tree frogs and geckos frequent the area, providing our cats with entertainment until the poor creatures die, being found later while unfolding one of the small throw rugs the cats slide on while chasing through the house.

We enjoy simple things such as sitting on the porch visiting with weekend neighbors and eating ice cream, drinking coffee, amidst voices, laughter, and guitar.  Yes, these are simple things, but good things to enjoy and not to take for granted.

Beauty is all around us.  The fall treating us to the changing colour of the leaves; late winter, early spring bringing the blooms of daffodils, forsythia, Bradford pear and flowering cherry trees, and the warming weather of mid-April delighting us with Dogwood trees in full bloom.

As we traverse the grounds on our evening walk, we usually detour to the dock where Dawson’s Creek is often smooth as glass and the night very still.  Even a yappy dog in the distance fails to break the spell of wonder as the sun dips beneath the horizon, the sky tinted orange-red while we watch.

Cindy B. Stevens