HomeMy WebLinkAboutDecember 11, 1980 - Wind, Cold Empty CreekDecember 11, 1980 Wind, Cold Empty
Creek You couldn't
be alive and not know the wind was howling
at its best this past week, and whenever
it howls out of the northwest during the
winter months you are bound to
see the temperature drop shortly after. Mix
the two together for a few days in
farm country and you have dust in the
air, a true sign of man's manipulation of the
earth. These strong winds
actually blew the water out of
our creeks and prevented the high tide from
returning giving the effect of a doubly
low tide and exposing areas we seldom ever see.
Today as I write there is no water in
our creeks at all, except where the channels have
been dug. Man, like the gulls and ducks,
takes advantage of these super low tides
and invades the exposed areas that have
so long been covered by water. One can
walk almost anywhere in the creeks at
this time, provided you keep out of the
soft, muddy areas. Many people do
not understand what mud is and
its function. Dust in the air today and other
eroded materials even- tually find their
way into our creek bot- toms. This, along
with all sorts of vegetable and other
organic matter, settles and decays
on our creek bottom. This then decomposes
and makes up the mud bottom. Creek
Mud is
Productive Yet it's
this black ooze, with all its microorganisms, worms and
nutrients, that makes our
creeks so productive. To most a muddy
creek bottom is a wasteland; yet, strange
as it may seem, it is an important
part of a working creek. True, some areas
become stagnant if there is no flushing
action. But where the flushing action takes
place, the mud of our creeks is vital
to the fish and shellfish and eventually our pleasure
here on the North Fork. As I
mentioned before, the gulls and ducks and a
few men invade the creeks when the tides
go out like this. There is something
about being out on a cold windy day,
especially when you arT dressed warm and
have an old pair of boots on and
carry a clam rake and bucket. It reminded
me of that famous painting called the
Gleaners. It showed peasants walking over
the newly- harvested fields picking
up the leftover grain after harvest.
Instead of grain I was looking for oysters,
most of which had been harvested, but
with the help of the extreme low tide
and the broad visibility of the creek bottom
I was able to spot a few. I took my
dog along for company and as usual he stayed
close and had a grand time frolicking up to
his belly in the tall grasses along the shore.
Every once in a while he'd venture into the
soft ooze, but promptly turned around, dripping
black with mud. This was quite
a contrast to his sleek brown fur that
was tended so closely at home. To him
this was what it was all about..running and
being free. He even challenged a family
of swans that swam up the channel. They
paid little attention to him as they
paddled majestically along in their stately white
uniforms. As a matter of fact I
could almost feel their air of contempt for such
a lowly animal as a barking dog. Dog
Versus Raccoon
Later on he
really started barking out on one of the
islands of tall grasses, I thought he had found
a crippled goose or swan, for there was definitely
a commotion going on that included squeals
and grunts and groans. The grass
being so high, I couldn't see what was
happening, so I investigated and found he
had disturbed a huge raccoon which was quite
indignant about being the center of interest
of a yelping dog. Have you ever
seen a raccoon mad? Well, let me
tell you they are not cute at all, as we
usually think of them. He showed every tooth in
his head as he charged and grunted at what
he thought was a ridiculously pesty dog.
I called "Hick" off and proceeded along
the creek edge, only to find him
back tantalizing the raccoon again. Time and
time I'd retrieve him and time and time
he'd sneak back when I wasn't looking
to give the raccoon another barrage. After all,
play was the only thing he was interested
in. On our way back he chased a rabbit
from along the marsh edge. It seems
both rabbits and raccoons enjoy our marshes
as much as we do. As I write
it's getting darker and darker. I can hardly
see the lights up on the Main ft:INPD) mo
M IQIEPPJ
Road for the
dust in the air. Everything is shrouded in a
dusty fog. The wind still blows and the
temperature is starting to drop again. Midway
through this writing my wife came
in and asked if I would go out into the
garden for cauliflower and also bring in the
last of the beets. Outside I found
the ground already frozen and it
was hard work digging out the beets. Layers
of topsoil and beets, frozen together, were
pried out. But finally all were harvested
and brought back into the warm house.
Later I opened
the oysters and some will go into an
oyster stew, but tonight we'll have fried oysters,
fresh beets, cauliflower and also sweet
potatoes from Barbara's folks' place. The
land has been good to us. Perhaps that is
why I never tire of praising it, and protecting
it. PAULSTOUTENBURGH 7 N
LMM
i;a7 RACCOON -- Usually
we
think of the raccoon as
a woodland animal, but he often
invades the great salt marshes here on
Long Island for food. Photo by
Paul Stoutenburgh Page 13A DON'
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