It was a morning with dew still on it. The slightly thick salted sea air transformed the mist into cigar-like entrails that were curling their way through the maze of tall water reeds, before rising to the sky.

The silence was broken by the snap of a twig as a deer was making his way down to the wild blackberry bushes that line the muddy shore banks. Then from overhead, the graceful glide of a great blue heron lands on a partially submerged log. The inquisitive river otter looked over, unimpressed, ventured back in the water. As I glided along, all creatures seemed at ease under the protection of the Centurion Redwood forest. continue