December 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;a
7�
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
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