Rusty Trees On The Oklawaha

This is the part of the Oklawaha where no one goes: the fishing isn't as good and water goes dark south of the springs. Of course, this is why I love it. I came here not too long ago, but it has since been transformed into an autumn canvas of floating leaves and rusty trees. I've never had the time to follow this river as far south as I'd like, but a camping trip along its banks is in the offing.

The swirling springs end as soon as you turn south from the Silver River and its hydrilla farms. Even mere drifting feels too fast to take everything in. I haven't quite worked out paddling-with-others etiquette. Is it cool to paddle ahead occasionally? Do I over-explain river phenomena I've noticed? At any rate, some of the best conversations I've had have been on the river. Not the lake, not the Gulf. The river, every time. We naturally internalize its meandering, I suppose.

Cypress turns rusty in the fall. I never knew this until someone pointed it out to me the other day. I guess when you look at them every day, it's hard to notice subtle changes. But here, the colors are obvious and unmistakable. Rust, green, and brown in the trees and black, sky blue, and green in the water, along with the occasional brilliant red leaf. The birds remain abundant here--ibis, cormorant, anhinga, herons--but the gators have gone...somewhere. I only saw one this time. I had come to love them and now miss seeing them.


I'm hankering for more than the three-to-four-hour surgical paddling strike. I have two relatively huge compartments in my boat and theoretically I could go out for a few days. I now have the time so why not? I welcome any suggestions and, in the meantime, look for some overnight tales in these pages.