In all my paddling of late the most amazing part is the river itself. Every second I am scanning the water ahead or either bank looking for form, movement and colour. I am always enthralled.
The water is invariably brown and cloudy.The head of the paddle disappears from sight on each stroke. It works lazily and late in the day every square metre features debris, detritus and flotsam of some kind; leaves, twigs, feathers and the ubiquitous seed lanterns, through to bamboo stalks, even whole trees. It's only by paddling several times a week that you realise the river's changing nature. One day you encounter a log reef, at a bend in the river,a tree lays beached, smaller branches, bamboo and leaf litter complete the scene. You wonder idly at how big a flood will be needed to clear it out before the next day when it has completely dissolved. After a while you recognise certain pieces of tree having transported itself down or back up the river. It's ever-changing magnificence.
Depending on where you are the width and i suppose depth, varies. Generally it's narrower and shallower the further upstream you go, but not always. It varies, as do the banks. Downstream, the levee banks are further apart and seem lower.This opens the river to light and greater air flow, friendly breezes or enemy gusts blast across rolling the surface darkly.
The flow is always present but not always evident. At its height it will swirl around snags at other times it is barely perceptible, you need to sit quietly and study the waters for evidence of movement. Yes, it's going out. It's always moving, once the flood stops, the ebb begins. Barely a calm exists, always one way or the other. The flow is the paddler's friend, begin your outing before a change and as you return the tide will turn with you. Keep it at your back and you have a helpful friend.
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