Each autumn morning I bike to the boat house, while the world sleeps, arriving long before daybreak. I launch with lights on my boat, and appreciate today's magical moon which lends a brightness to the night.
I am startled by a barred owl who flies out of the trees and circles above me, diving down close to the stern deck of my single. “Coo coo cachoo!” He cries and he draws up suddenly, likely as surprised as I am.
As he flaps away into the darkness, I marvel at the nocturnal edge of autumn rowing. And eagerly await the first light of dawn when the rest of the world catches up.
I am startled by a barred owl who flies out of the trees and circles above me, diving down close to the stern deck of my single. “Coo coo cachoo!” He cries and he draws up suddenly, likely as surprised as I am.
As he flaps away into the darkness, I marvel at the nocturnal edge of autumn rowing. And eagerly await the first light of dawn when the rest of the world catches up.
