Day for Impressionists

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Aki and I have reached the edge of Gastineau Channel near the mouth of Sheep Creek. Crows and gulls, scattered over the creek delta like salt and pepper, pay no attention to the little dog and I. Even the normally jumpy mallards ignore us. A small raft of ducks land on the channel waters and paddle our way. What are we little dog, invisible?

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I recognize a male golden eye in the newly arrived raft. But I can’t make out the rest of the gang. My best guess is that they are female common golden eyes. Whatever they are, the birds swim towards us as if I held a bucket of grain for them to devour.


I lead the little dog away from the golden eyes to the edge of a small tidal lake where mallards, gulls, and crows feed. The lake reflects the faded fall colors on Sheep Mountain. On a sunny day, the images would be crisper than those of the reflected trees. But in today’s flat light, they are as abstract as Monet ‘s water lilies.

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