Dark Mystery, Swimmer

On a walk just after sunset last night, I stepped gingerly out onto the Old Stone Bridge over the Sudbury river. A twelve-foot snowbank has blocked access to the bridge since early January, but now all such barriers are receding fast. "Gingerly" means I was watchful for new sinkholes that might let me down toward or even into the cold, dark river. The water was moving more swiftly than in the fall and had risen several feet, lifting up the heaps of debris caught by the bridgework to where I could see them clearly.

Suddenly, I was not alone. An animal form was swimming swiftly toward me, crossing the river at an angle.  My elusive beaver? An otter? No, when the creature stepped out onto the debris pile, I saw it had a long, thin, hairless tail and was exactly the size and possessed the profile of a large rat. Shudder.

After a swift sniff-around, the rat slipped back into the water, then checked out the next debris flotilla. The dark river soon swallowed up the darker form again, but he reappeared on Clotilde's lawn, poking around, presumably for food. Shudder again? But why? He was just doing his part in cleaning up the environment.

Then it was time for both of us to go. By now it was dark enough that I wouldn't have known what kind of creature it was that ran out along a fallen tree limb, slipped into the water, and ever so sveltly swam off leaving a widening trail of ripples behind. Ratty disappeared into the shadowy place where he had first emerged. I hoped he'd found enough supper, as I turned for home and mine.