The wonderful weather of the past week made it virtually impossible for Your Faithful Correspondent to labor tediously indoors at legitimate pursuits.  I had also noticed that my kayak was becoming lonely and despondent while hanging from the garage ceiling.  Thus, solving two problems in one fell swoop, I went paddling.

My chosen destination was the upper reaches of Eagle Creek reservoir.  Parking on the shoulder of Lafayette road, I carried my boat to the water that was now located several feet down the bank.   The area that is usually lake was now mostly dried mudflat sprinkled with old tires and various other debris.

The water level had dropped to the point where the upper reaches of lake were now creek bed.  I took off initially upstream, until the water turned into a mere trickle that would not satisfy a thirsty cow.   It was apparent that no wildlife used this foul pool of stagnant water so I reversed course and went toward the lake.

I paddled down until meeting a man and women who were attempting to catch catfish.  The man complained that they had not been very lucky so far.  I offered the opinion that, based upon the huge amounts of trash in the area, they should be using either cigarette butts or corn chips for bait.  They didn’t seem amused, so I moved onward.

Making my way downstream proved difficult.  The water alternated from a few feet to a few inches deep.  This necessitated using a paddling technique that I invented a few years ago.  To use this unnamed maneuver, you throw the paddle a few feet ahead and then place your hands on both sides of the boat and scoot along the bottom.   This action is similar in  appearance to a dog relieving an embarrassing itch, but is an effective way to move along in very shallow water.

Finally reaching a deeper pool, I now had to fight with the wind.  For the uninitiated, a whitewater kayak on calm water is simply an expensive plastic margarine tub.  Thus, I was tired when I reached the next shallow stretch and I paused to catch my breath.

Sitting still, becalmed on a mud flat I began to notice the birds that were everywhere around me.   Eagle creek is known as a good spot for bird watching, but I had never actually taken the time to slow down and enjoy the show.

Everywhere around the water, birds of all types flitted about conducting their daily affairs.  It seemed apparent to even the most casual observer that the fall migration was in full swing and had made a fuel stop around the drying reservoir.

I first noticed the squadron of Killdeer.  It would seem that every one of these brown and white striped birds in Indiana had gathered on the mudflat to run hither-dither about as if experiencing a serious anxiety attack.  This activity provided a dynamic backdrop for a lone Snipe that methodically went about its business, sticking his outlandish bill deep into the mud to extract some tasty morsel.

Every pool had a stately snow-white Common Egret standing sentinel.  The field guide I had consulted said these large birds are commonly seen in Indiana, but this was a first time that I had made their acquaintance in basketball territory.

There was the usually assortment of ducks, including several flights of wood duck, arguably one of the most beautiful waterfowl.  Mallards and a few pintails rounded out the cast of characters.

Blue Herons flew overhead looking for an undisturbed place to land, while hawks and vultures pirouetted high above riding thermal currents.  The menagerie was completed by an assortment of various DLB (drab little birds).

Of course, the ubiquitous Canadian Goose made its loud, honking presence known.  I used to view these birds as a noble migratory creatures of the north; nowadays they are simply dirty golf-course dwellers who foul every place they inhabit.  In a sense, they are land-carp.  Most of them probably have no idea how to migrate and would probably be arrested for hitchhiking along the Interstate if they tried.

The highlight of the day was the sighting of a Double-Crested Cormorant.  Again, the book said that these large black birds are common throughout the eastern United States during summer, but I had not seen one north of Florida.  When disturbed, the bird takes off running comically across the water until it seems that it will never lift off.  Perhaps we need a federal program to install wing flaps on awkward waterfowl.

The number and variety of birds flying around the area is amazing.  I suggest taking a leisurely stroll around the lake bottom of Eagle Creek reservoir before cold weather blows in and moves the birds southward.  Just don’t smoke near the water; getting mugged by a catfish with the shakes could prove embarrassing.

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