River Reflectionsby Ashley Hoskins, August 2009 Moving up to Orono from Bucksport for college may have moved my sense of place, but remaining consistent is the Penobscot River. Working with the Penobscot River Restoration Trust and living along the river for my final year of school at the University of Maine have kept my ties to this river strong and deep. Every day I find daily reminders of how connected we are as a people to this majestic watershed: the sounds of the rushing waters from my open window, neighbors splashing around in the river on hot days, kayaks and canoes riding on top of cars, and kids casting lines over the bridge to Indian Island. All this and more inspired me to become more active in the water in order to feel more connected with this place I call home.  This summer I decided it was time to purchase a kayak. After a dreary June and July, warm weather finally arrived with August, and I was able to get out onto the water. One sunny late afternoon I decided to load the Loon atop my CRV and pack up my iPod, camera, water, and life vest to go on my first solo paddle. I decided to stick with the familiar and began at the Old Town boat landing. I was slightly intimidated at first as I launched my kayak from the safety of the boat landing. As I headed outward, a motor boat was being pulled out of the water, and several people were playing with their dogs in the shallow water and on the dock. Popping in my earbuds, I turned myself upstream listening to some mellow tunes as I departed the busy boat landing.
As I paddled away from shore, I felt liberated to be alone. It was comfortable and serene as I dipped my paddle from side to side into the beautiful flowing river. The water was cool on this hot summer day. It was refreshing to be in a natural environment, to get away from the sounds of the train behind my house, or the car engines revving along the main roads of town. I took my earbuds out momentarily to embrace the natural sounds. Happy birds chirping, the smooth flow of the river, trees rustling in the slight summer breeze – it was beautiful. A contented sigh came from my chest and again I started up my music.  Investigating objects floating in my direction, I couldn't help but wonder what was coming my way beneath the water. I wondered whether or not any fish were disturbed by my paddle strokes, and also if they were at the same time wondering what I was. Did they even notice the long, dark object passing above? Birds flew low over the rippling flow and I wasn't quick enough to snap a photo on my camera to capture the image. I thought of the many benefits these birds will gain from a restored river, when Milford becomes the first dam on the river after the removal of the Great Works and Veazie dams takes place. The return of native sea run fish would be excellent food sources for many birds along the river, including heron, eagles, and osprey. The swift moving riffles could provide habitat for insect hatches which would feed songbirds and ducks. I smiled as I pondered these benefits and continued paddling upstream, Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here," now playing in the foreground of my thoughts. I didn't wish for anyone to be there, though. I was happy to be alone; it felt peaceful. While it is comforting to have company on a paddle, or a hike, I have always found that solitude in nature is the only way to really get some time to relax and get in tune with my own thoughts.  The sun reflected beautifully on the water, glistening in a blinding gold line. I snapped a few photos of the sun's reflection and surroundings and took a few moments to enjoy the silent beauty of our energy maker. Paddling away from the sun, I drifted toward a bank. I've always found reflections to be intriguing, but recently I've seen how impressive they can look when developed in photo form. I decided to fish my camera out again and give it a shot myself. The trees, the clouds, the rocks, they all look beautiful reflected and slightly distorted in the rippling water. After I finished, I decided it was time to turn myself around and head back to shore.
A spider floating downstream alongside my kayak caused me to pause for a moment. I lifted the creature up onto my paddle and allowed it to climb around for a few seconds before releasing it back into the cool, gentle flow. I wondered what kind of journey the spider was on and how long it had been floating there. Drifting away from the arachnid, I noticed two dabbling ducks sitting in the water to my right. Out came the camera from my vest pocket and I tried zooming in on the ducks. One dove under, attempting to catch dinner. I paddled closer, trying to move smoothly and quietly along so as not to disturb their mealtime swim. Once I was close enough to take a photo without feeling too invasive, I snapped a few quick pictures, then noticed another kayaker coming around the bend. The individual looked curious about why I had stopped, and I moved along to allow the opportunity for the kayaker to stop and enjoy the scene of the two ducks. My journey was almost over for the day. The song "So Much Beauty in Dirt" by Modest Mouse started playing on my iPod, and I again embraced all the beauty around me. What a treasure it is to live by a river. I could now see the boat landing and noticed people were still playing with dogs along the shore. As I landed and stepped out of my kayak into the cool water, I felt a sense of satisfaction and independence as I completed my paddle. While I do enjoy having a companion, I was proud of myself for accomplishing the solo trip. The river, wide and free, is a perfect setting for me to discover and appreciate my independence and freedom of being a young woman. I look forward to more paddling on the Penobscot River, whether with a fellow paddler or alone. No two paddling trips will be the same, for, in the words of Heraclitus of Ephesus, "You can never step into the same river; for new waters are always flowing on to you." © Penobscot River Restoration Trust Read More about the benefits of river restoration to paddlers ... LINK TO SCOTT PHILLIPS EDITORIAL HOME |
