farewell to the Bosque

My last day in Albuquerque was July 23, 2007. I got up early as I have done every day for the past year to take sunrise photographs. Being rather a creature of habit, I headed down to the Bosque alongside the Montano Bridge. I walked down to the river on the north side of the bridge. A well-worn path takes you most of the way and then the Bosque opens up to the burn recovery area with weeds that are a good five feet tall in places. Wading through the thicket of scratchy vegetation, I found a spot very close to the water’s edge.
The ground is a maze of downed tree limbs and trunks cut off at the base, a kind of minefield hidden from view.


The color of the sunrise spreads out across the water. Almost immediately, I hear the familiar tail slap of a beaver. It is always startlingly loud, especially as it echoes across the water. The beaver is easy to spot, with his body about 2/3 of its length above the water surface as he makes his way down river.
Finding a submerged bar, he sits and chews on branches.


I remember working out in the Bosque when I first heard that sound. It startled the heck out of me, not an unusual response when working out in the middle of nowhere all by oneself. I watched the beaver eat for several minutes, impressed with how at home he appeared in the middle of all of the vibrant water.
It seemed a fitting end to my adventure.