Kingfishers
Following a long night of steady rain, the early morning air is cool, the lake glass-smooth. Gray monotone sky overcasts ridgetops and shreds raggedly into the gorges. We idle along at 1500 rpms (very slowly), close to shore, hunting kingfishers. Notoriously skittish, the birds soar off bare-branch perches at our quiet approach, leaving only echoes of their rattling calls. We weave into coves and around downed trees, pushing them further up river’s arm until half a dozen kingfishers are within easy aim, and those expert hunters on my boat are able to get some killer shots. With cameras, of course! ~K   


 

 

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