Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family’s mixed Lab.
Early start to the morning ramble with the meathead as its advantages.
One of the town’s family of red foxes trotted down the railroad tracks.
But the glow of seeing my favorite mammal soon faded.
On the edge of the town pond came a violent thrashing in the water. I went to the edge, half hoping to see a beaver.
Then I found it far out, a huge common carp, maybe 30 inches or longer. It thrashed back to shore, thrashed around some more close enough to fire Storm’s hunter instincts.
Then I noticed dozens of smaller bursts of fish breaking on the surface around the bridge at the neckdown. It didn’t look good.
I fear it is the early stages of piping, what fisheries biologist Ken Clodfelter described fish doing in the early stages of a fish kill related to a crash of dissolved oxygen.
More of the fish on the surface were along the back side of the town pond.
I will check again later today. I wonder if it is related to the cold half inch or so of rain we had yesterday.
As I neared town, I noticed more doves. I wonder if a fresh push came with the weather change.
