I've learned a lot of new plants, all aquatic, since signing up for a Zoom course with the Lake Stewards of Maine in 2020.
When I set off on an aquatic expedition, I have lots of things stowed in my kayak, not least of which are my phone in a watertight bag, and my flotation device. In addition, I bring weighted markers, a net, sometimes a shrub rake, a bucket, a pair of scissors (with which I cut and free up branches of fishing line and hooks), and a viewing scope (an adapted pistol-case) to enable me to see down into the water. I tether it to my kayak and let it float along next to me while I peer down through its transparent bottom:
It works pretty well, though it can sometimes get in the way of one's paddle, and offers only a very limited viewing area, but it does cut out the distortion from surface ripples, and the top gives one enough shade to cut out glare. I can see down to about 6 feet below me in good light conditions. I have become so adept at spotting naiads though, that I very seldom need the viewing scope to detect them now. They seem to jump out at me, as if they have a very special and particular spectral signature I'm inadvertently picking up on.
This is what I'm out there looking for - that very distinctive rusty colored canopy of Najas minor blooming just below the surface. It is very tiring on the eyes to survey so intently for hours on end, I must say, but it's actually exciting and worthwhile, in my mind, and I can't stop myself from doing it!
When I harvest a haul like this, I feel really good about hindering its efforts to disperse its seeds for the next year's growing cycle.
