Today is the first day of autumn…which, interestingly, is the earliest date for the season's arrival since 1896. The change of seasons, of course, came with the passage of the equinox, which the old countrymen always knew, generally marked a change in weather.
True to form, it stormed here last night—several long bouts of hard, almost tropical rains, which began about dark and were still going at midnight. Lots of thunder and lightening, to boot. Our first equinoctial weather, I thought, as I listened to rain pounding on the roof.
I also figured such a session of downpours would have the river dark with mud and up by several feet come morning. But I was wrong, and quite surprised when I looked out at dawn and saw the water only slightly discolored and only a few inches higher. This tells me the storms—or at least the heavy rains—were localized, reiterating the fact it really doesn't matter what happens along this stretch of the stream, but rather it's the rains which fall upon the watershed upstream that affects our water conditions here.
The minimal change in water level and clarity certain didn't seem to hamper the great blue heron stalking it's breakfast just above the island across from the cottage. During the time it took me to drink my first cup of coffee, the gangly feathered fisherman caught and downed three small fish, while pretty much standing in the same spot. That's probably the the old bird's fast-food equivalent of a Saugage McMuffin and a double order of hash browns at Mickey D's.