August 7. That was a Friday. We went past the blueberry fields to Wigeon Slough. This time the Pitt River was calm, like a poorly-rolled piece of glass you could put sticks into. That's a bad metaphor. Anyway it wasn't windy and choppy like the other time. The water was low, but the tide was coming in and we only grounded the canoe a few times. We had lunch on a sandbar (we later figured it was the second-best sandbar), ate blackberries (sorry, bears!) took a few pictures and waved to people passing by.
This time we went right where the river forked, or more properly, came together, since we were going upstream. What a delightful experience! We even saw a big fish, a mottled black-and-white creature that led us up the creek for a bit before disappearing.
Finally, however, it was time to turn around. A big tree blocked the path. On the way back we glided slowly past herons who showed us their fishing skills. We called them Pat the Heron. There were two of them, and they both can be Pat. Why not? After eating a fish they would wiggle their bums.
And then, back across the Pitt, through the blueberry fields, across the bridge, and back into this other world. A world without Pat.