Rivers of Change, Rivers of Life

A Place for Otters                  15 February 2010

Just feet away, the otter surfaced with a golden fish in its mouth.  It chewed enthusiastically, mouth open, rolling the crumbling fish around on its bony pallet.  Each time the otter had gone under for a fish, I had slithered along the ice to get closer.  Each time the otter surfaced, I froze still.  When the bubbles began rising just a few arms’ lengths away, my heart leapt in anticipation.  When the first otter surfaced with another fish, I entered “work mode,” fully engaged in the process of making pictures.  When the second otter surfaced, I felt all of nature smiling on my good fortune.  With each image I made, I worked less, lived more, and made sure to soak in the joyous moment. 

As clean water springs and seeps bubble out of the ground and spill into the back bays of the Saint Croix River, the unique flows maintain streams and pools of open water that last all winter. This is a phenomenal source of life amid a snow-swept landscape, concentrating animals from all around.  

I prowl the river miles, up and down, learning the ins and outs that bring me closer to the lives of these animals I cherish.  I come to know the otters, eagles, and swans as friends, and they grow used to my presence.  I bank on some small degree of certainty that this bounty will remain and that I will have the time to learn it to perfection.

But this is a river, and rivers are always changing.  This small stretch of river has given so much, but it is no longer the same stretch of river. 

A vast and powerful flood of early spring 2011 brought sand and silt into the back bay, filling in a long, deep channel that used to bring fish and would then attract many animals.  Since these photographs were made, the system that served the otters has moved elsewhere.  A new story will surely develop in this spot that I once knew and must learn again.  The otters are busy writing their own story nearby but undiscovered by me.

I can only hope that the slow and steady march of river waters will scour out the channel and bring the fish again.    It will return the system as I knew it.  I have no worries for those otters, though.  They know what they are doing, and this is a great, wild and clean river with many other places to hunt.  Perhaps the otters know better that they can now fish without having to worry about my own doings.  They are resilient survivors and the product of an ever-changing river course.  

All images were made with a Canon Rebel XTi and Canon 300mm f4L IS lens, my usual dedicated prime lens.  I lay on my belly on the river ice and moved only when the opportunity allowed, paying attention to ice safety and the otters’ needs.  Eventually, the otters permitted me to enter into their realm, and I made as many exposures as I could in the brief time we shared.