On the Broad River

Towering mangroves framed the water as it narrowed toward the river. The surface was smooth and reflective, the Gulf behind us bright and open. For a while there was very little sound. As we crossed into the mouth of the river, a great blue heron lifted from the trees and flew overhead, calling once before disappearing upstream.

Taylor and I paddled without speaking. The only regular sound was the blade entering the water. White ibises moved through the mangrove roots along the banks, stepping deliberately through the mud. Occasionally something large disturbed the surface, leaving only widening rings behind.

Most of the movement here wasn’t visible. The water carried more life than the air above it, and we were suspended between the two. We kept a steady pace, letting the river narrow around us.

Broad River Camp sat several miles upriver. We drifted when we could and paddled only to stay centered, watching the banks for whatever chose to reveal itself.

Near a bend in the river, the surface broke abruptly. A blue-gray shape rose clear of the water and fell back in, then rose again. The dolphin continued this for several moments, appearing and disappearing as we sat still in the canoe. Then it was gone, and the river continued as it had before.

Everglades, Florida - March 2012