To me the only thing better than paddling slowly through a forest of bald cypress trees would be to go back in time and paddle through a virgin stand of the same. Today though I was with some huge trees. The majestic cypress I drifted by were ancient; their fluted and buttress bases were thirty, forty and some even fifty feet in circumference. They grew amongst a number of younger trees. Because they did not have a good saw log they escaped the clear cuttings of the early 1900’s.
It was cold and still with blue skies and the reflections of the trees on the clear water made good photos. Wood ducks flushed ahead of us as we paddled quietly. Great Blue herons squawked as they launched into flight from the treetops. Schools of pan fish scurried ahead. No turtles or alligators showed their face on this winter day, but signs of raccoons and otters were on every floating log. Occasionally breaking into the sounds of nature we could hear the hum of big tugs pushing barges on the Mississippi or a four-wheeler carrying a deer hunter to his stand. But mainly it was quiet, peaceful and fantastically beautiful. A boat, water and big trees…what more could I want?
