I’ve stopped to look over the valley from this spot many times before. It’s a perfect place to judge the fishability of the water and get an idea where I can walk along the banks before I head down to park. And the view is always lovely no matter why I’ve stopped to look.
On this morning, just an hour or so after sunrise, I could see that the water was running kind of a jade green, murkier than it was in the city but not bad. Knee-depth visability is just about perfect for fishing. There were geese floating along in pairs while more of their cousins flew along overhead, all of them honking like mad. Between their honks I could hear the whistle of duck wings as goldeneyes and mergansers flew low along the water.
Nearby, a meadowlark was singing and I could hear robins and warblers and blackbirds all pitching their songs into the pot of sound coming from the river valley. A train rumbled by over on the tracks that run through Carseland and it sounded its horn as it approached the highway crossing.
It was chilly and damp but beautiful, the morning music and the cold, blue mist nearly cancelling each other out.