November Olives; More links

Last night I had a 5:30 PM appointment in a building along the Huron river just downstream from the U-M hospital. I got there a bit early and walked down to the river to enjoy the unseasonably warm evening and autumn colors reflected in the quiet flow. Not a breath of wind moving. Ann Arbor's skyline stood out against a lemon twilight, shading into bands of orange and violet above.

Sometimes it's not easy to see how clear the Huron is. From a ways off, it usually appears dull, treacle brown or cloudy gray. But that's just because of dark silt on the river's bottom. People describe the water of many trout streams as "gin clear," and while the Huron is not quite that, it certainly is no more than a slight dash of lime juice or olive brine away from it. Looking straight down in the water, you can clearly make out rocks and drowned timber in the river, beds of gravel, trails of crayfish in the silt, or river grass swaying in the current. At this point in the year, that grass is turning a pale yellow, if it hasn't already shriveled to kinky brown filaments which will shortly come unmoored from their roots and drift along the river's bottom until they disintegrate, adding to the muck along the river's margins, or at the bottom of Gallup Pond.

The river's surface showed a few dimples of feeding fish--something I ordinarily wouldn't expect this time of year, though I suppose the recent warmth has kept the flies hatching and the fish looking up. A few caddis shivered over the water, but the quiet rises were probably from fish sipping emerging blue wing olives.

Some of the little mayflies hovered around head height. I caught one and inspected it for a moment, wondering if I shouldn't have gone fishing on Thursday instead of hunting. Letting him go, I started making plans to meet up with his progeny--and their predators--next fall. For the time being, I was grateful to share a moment the river and its inhabitants.

Found a few other interesting links.

Ontario Wanderer features nature photos and stories from rural Ontario and beyond.

A philosophy professor's lesson plan incorporates fly fishing into his discussion of Swedenborg. Where was this guy when I was in school? (another find from Midcurrent.)