Today was much cooler. Probably less than 65 degrees and sprinkled on and off. The river is heading right back up. I was worried that we'd close for high water tomorrow morning, but instead, around 4ish, the boss came down and said that a backhoe was on it's way down. It dug a good deal of rock out of the area directly next to the ramp on the east side. Those rocks, we think, are the only real reason we can't operate at 16 feet, like the WL. With the rocks dug out, I was able to land pretty well, when before I would slam into the rocks, the boat would almost bounce over them and there would be a large gap between the ramp and the boat apron.
I think by the end of the day tomorrow, the river will have gone up over a foot and I'll be hitting the rocks again. But this is a great improvement, I'll be able to operate up to 14.5 instead of 13.5.
The ride to and from work has become a delight. I'm still surprised and happy when I leave the house at 6:15 in the morning and it's light out. One of the things I hated about working the winter was that I'd get to the ferry in the dark, and leave in the dark. The farms and fields I drive by every day were invisible in the darkness. I love watching the changes to the fields, seeing what's been planted, which flocks are in the fields, which birds are nesting where. Now, in spring, it's wonderful to watch the changes every day on my way too and from work.
This morning, I noticed that a field that had been green not long ago had turned gold and orange. I don't have any idea what's growing, it looks grassy or wheaty, but the color is amazing and sparkles in the light. A different huge field that rounds a sharp corner is a riot of bright yellow flowers. What is this plant?
Closing up the boat this evening, I realized how less tense work feels when it's not dark in the evening and I'm not freezing my butt off. I wandered around the boat, locking things up this evening, delightfully calm and peaceful, not racing around, dodging raindrops, trying to keep in as much heat as possible.