Muskrat, Set at Ramming Speed!

Avast, ye lubbers! Trim the sail! Full bore on the throttle! Ramming speed!

The first full day of spring was a real breath of fresh air. I awoke to bright yellow sunshine and blue skies. A quick visit to Millbrook Marsh was on my agenda. And the world I found there was golden, full of birdsong and hope. The snowpack is finally gone, and I was marveling at the fresh, new world that lay before me.

I had just stepped out onto the bridge over Thompson Run, and was photographing some reflections on the water, when I spotted a creature coming toward me on the surface of the water at top speed!

The critter kept on coming, violating all of the rules about the no wake zone. But at the last minute, it turned away. When it did, I saw its long skinny tail. Yes, definitely a muskrat! And then it disappeared under some bushy branches along the stream bed.

The encounter lasted less than a minute. During that time, I took a half-dozen shots. (Sidebar: I think there ought to be some sort of outdoor photographer's boot camp, where they teach you how to photograph a moving target. Along with lots of other useful skills. One of these days, I'll make a list. But I digress.)

I was struck, during the encounter, by how much the swimming muskrat resembled a watercraft on the move. A tiny ship, gliding through the water at a nearly alarming rate of speed, with that ultra-thin tail helping to guide its course.

And a furry, bewhiskered master sailor at the bow. A sailor's son, no doubt, from a long line of sailors . . . out on the sea for adventure.

The song: Jimmy Buffett, Son of a Son of a Sailor.

Bonus story link: How did the muskrat save the world?