Lost in my train of thought

This'll be a quickie. Four miles later, I make to my turn. The tracks continue onward, but I need to make a right down along the canal bank. Canals too are great places to find nature. Not as good a the wild stream or river perhaps, but plants persist, as is the gist of these articles. Within the narrow banks reside many submerged & emergent aquatics, likely planted, but who knows. I pass duck potato (Sagittaria lancifolia), Pickerel weed (Pontederia cordata), Cattails (Typha domingensis), the garlicky smelling algae Chara and some nasty weeds not indigineous to the area, Hydrilla verticillata and a new species of Rotala, probably brought in from the aquarium trade.

Occasionally, although not today, a manatee pokes its head above the water's surface. No obnoxious jet skiers today, who for some reason like to go back and forth along the canal on their mouthy meaningless machines. They aren't nearly as interesting or romantic as the trains which infrequently rattle on down.

My street is comin' up. Ice cold water and man's best friend await. What an adventure it is to live here. No it isn't shangra la, but it is fine, and unlike anywhere else in the world. It is the flavors that keep me here, and the longing to protect what's left. (Railroad 5 of 5)