Tuesday, May 2, 2017

MULE and a Marsh Tour

A little rain didn't deter this group -- I really enjoyed showing my cousin (Mike), his wife (Carol), and three
of Mike's fraternity brothers around the West Marsh the other day

To me, there is no better way to see the marsh than being out in it. The photos that help make up this online journal provide literal snapshots in time, but nothing beats the air on your face, the mud on your boots (and other places), and the sun and wind on your neck.

A drive along the dikes in a pickup truck or SUV sometimes has to do . . . say when it's 10 degrees, pouring rain, or blowing 40 mi/hr our to of the northeast. Walking tours are awesome, but ironically, sometimes limit the diversity of wildlife viewing at close range. (Somehow, they often just know that you are coming.) "Punting" quietly through the shallows in an open-topped kayak-like "punt" boat is another great way to see and experience these unique surroundings. More on that soon.

But as Roy will tell you, my vehicle of choice for quick introductions to the property is our 4x4 Kawasaki MULE. As the name suggests (Multi-Use Light Equipment), we use this thing for a wide range of work and fun. Low and high gear, four-wheel drive, a winch, a work bed, and a tow hitch lend themselves nicely to the work side. But the open-top and two rows of seating make for a nice combination of comfort, convenience, and intimacy -- at least in my mind.

We definitely felt the wind in our hair last Friday afternoon. The recent rounds of showers were just rolling in, but not before we had the chance to drive the entire exterior of the West Marsh. Egrets and herons, immature eagles, and yellowlegs entertained from the air and shallow water. Tree swallows took advantage of the spring gloom to get busy catching bugs. The pump was running, so the group got a kick out of carp viewing -- somehow, it never seems to disappoint. At mid-afternoon with weather rolling in, it was actually relatively quiet from a wildlife perspective. But at least a couple of our guests independently commented on the "explosion of life" as soon as we pulled off the road and into the marsh. I try my best not to take all that life for granted.

My message to all of them as we wrapped up our hour-long tour (and the raindrops got bigger and closer together) was that every day is different on the marsh. In fact, every hour, every minute, every second brings change. More and more people are asking for tours. We are happy to provide them. The biggest challenge is that I want to show everything that the marsh has to offer. What I'm learning is that it is only in consistent time in the field that "everything" slowly reveals itself.