Damselfly @ MindSay 
River Ramblings
This past Sunday, I arranged for our local kayak livery service to shuttle me and my kayak about 15 to 20 miles upstream from town, so that I could spend the day relaxing on the river. I had never paddled this section of river before, so I was quite excited to be able to take all day to explore my new surroundings.
I awoke around 6:30 in the morning to get my self prepared for the trip. After packing a picnic lunch and the essentials for my trip, I headed down to the livery to meet with the owner’s son, who was to me take upstream. It took only a few minutes for me to unload my gear, strap it safely to their trailer and head on down the road. We talked casually about kayaking and canoeing for a while and the 45 drive to the put-in point seemed to fly by. When we reached low water crossing, where I was being dropped off, I asked how much I owed for the shuttle and he replied that his dad said, “It was on the house.” So it turned out that I was going to spend the day being entertained and it wasn’t going to cost me anything, aside from a little sunscreen and the expense of my picnic lunch.
Very soon after putting –in, I came across the first group of rapids to run. I thought to myself, “This is what I needed.”
The force of the water is overwhelming in both its strength and beauty. The roar of white noise shuts out every thing, just me and my little boat playing in the same powerful element that carves down mountains. I relished every second of it, as it cleared my mind of all that is mundane.
After the first large set of white water, I drifted slowly through a deep still pool in the river. The sun beat down, not the slightest puff of breeze, the temperature sky –rocketing and the sound of cicadas singing in the trees. Only some one from Texas would probably agree with me, but damn, it sure felt like home. I quietly paddled over to the shore for a brief patch of shade and a quick drink of water. As I sat amongst the towering pecan trees, I watched the sun shimmer and dance on the water. Glancing towards the near bank, a flash caught my eye. Looking closer, I spotted an awesome juvenile Guadalupe Bass. This is the Texas state fish and a highly endangered species.
My heart uplifted by being able to witness something so rare, I continued on with my journey down the river. As I lazily paddled along taking in the grandeur of me surroundings, I felt as all the problems in the world were slipping away. For the moment there was no war, no hunger, no pillaging of the land and no want of any kind. For just an instant, it seemed as if everything was going to be alright here on planet earth. This blissful solitude was quickly interrupted by, what sounded like a jet plane, whooshing past my ear. Of course it was no jet plane, only a Plains Forktail Damselfly that had decided to alight on my kayak and go for a little ride. 
This interruption was fortunately timed, because I awoke from my peaceful dream world to hear the rumble of the next set of rapids hidden just behind the next bend in the river. After shooting over a small waterfall (sorry, the picture didn’t turn out), I came to a still pool and beheld an awesome rock garden in the river. Some of the boulders were the size of a modest house and had their own micro-ecology for flora growing on them. One of my favorites was ringed with Maiden Hair Ferns, with clumps of Switchgrass on its sides and topped with small Cottonwood trees.
A little further down stream and across the river was a great stand of Eastern Gama Grass, which is an ancient ancestor to corn. While taking photos of this exceptional stand of Native grass, I noticed a turtle sitting on a log with the grass in the background. I wasn’t able to get close enough to see which type of turtle it was, but it was nice to be able to share the river with it, all the same.
Following the river, moving along at its pace, so that I could take in Nature’s glory, I saw something that is a bit uncommon in the Wilderness during hot Texas summers, a shrub in full bloom. It was a Halberd-leaf Hibiscus, which against all odds, starts blooming when every thing else is beat down by the heat and drought. . The deep red center of blossom acts like a bulls-eye on a target to draw in pollinators and the blooms will provide nectar for many insects from now until the first hard freeze. I decided that I needed to go and take a picture, so that I could be reminded of the Hibiscuses resilience and beauty, maybe not seeing it in person, but just remembering that it is there on the banks of the river adding grace to the world even if no human can see it.
When I returned to my kayak, I continued to think river thoughts and paddled away. When suddenly a Great Blue Heron shot out on the rushes and up into the air. Apparently, I startled it as it was feeding on the river’s edge. It landed high up on a snag and looked around nervously, trying to decide if I could paddle up the dead tree and get it or not. 
After eye-balling me for a few minutes the Heron, made the decision that it was safe to come down and continue to feed, more than likely on the millions of Rio Grande Leopard Frogs that were hopping along on the river banks. I stopped for a while after leaving the Heron to its dinner, and was amazed by the abundance of the RG Leopard Frogs. Most were small, about the size of a quarter to a half dollar. 
I did spot one that was much smaller than the rest and begged it to stand still so that I could have a better look. It was smaller than the finger nail on my pinkie finger, but was an exact miniature of the larger Frogs.
After following the tiny little Frog around, I finally was able to get it to feel safe enough that it would hold still, so that I could take its picture.
With sunset approaching, I pushed on down the river and soon came to my take out point. A little sad, to have to leave the river for today, but with a full heart looking back at the beauty and joys that the river had shared with me, not only on this day but also in the years past and with hope for many more wonderful times in the future.
