March 9, 2025 by mbhmaine

SOLC Day 9: Morning at the Marsh

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March 2025 SOLC–Day 9
A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow.
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“I think I’m going to the marsh tomorrow,” I mentioned to Kurt as we went to bed last night. “I haven’t been in ages.”

Then I woke today and checked the forecast again. Windy?! Feels-like temperature of 15˚F!? Ew. Did I really want to go that much?

The marsh is about a 45-minute drive from me, and during the school year, I can only go on the weekends. If I didn’t go today, it would be another week before I could. Ugh. I hemmed and hawed a bit. Should I go? Should I not? I checked the forecast a few times, but it stayed the same. (Go figure!) Finally, I decided to stick with my plan, bundled up and set off.

I felt lighter as soon as I was underway. I never regret taking the time to go to the marsh. The light is stunning, and I always aim to get there before sunrise so that I can watch the day awaken. I get into a flow of walking, noticing, stopping, and photographing. Time slips by unheeded. I’m convinced that I breathe better there.

This morning was no different.

Here are a few photo highlights from my time there today, some of which are welcome harbingers of spring!

What a way to start the day!

May 16, 2023 by mbhmaine

The Gift of a Morning at the Marsh

If you get up now, you could make it to the marsh for sunrise.

I woke around 4 am on Saturday morning, wrapped in my nest of warm blankets. The thought, once it entered my mind, would not be dislodged.

If you get up now, you could make it to the marsh for sunrise.

I had had no intention of making the 5:19 sunrise (a 45 minute drive away) and instead had planned to set out after sunrise to look for warblers. Still, my mind had other ideas and was somewhat insistent.

If you get up now, you can easily make it. You’re already awake. Just do it! You can go to the marsh and then go to the park to look for warblers. You know you won’t regret it! It’ll be beautiful!

It didn’t take too much persuasion. The lure of spending mornings outside with my camera is a strong one for me. So, I shrugged off my blankets and thoughts of writing and a lazy start to the weekend, and happily gave in. I rolled out of bed, quickly brewed my coffee and got my things together. Within 15 minutes I was out the door and on my way to the marsh.

While I love being at the marsh, the early drive down there always offers its own appeal. As the day unfolded around me, it struck me, as it often does, as a gift unwrapping. Bit by bit, it revealed itself. Ribbons of color and cloud unfurled in the sky.The light gradually intensified along the horizon, silvering the tops of rivers. Silhouettes of trees became more distinct as shadows receded. As I drove through the sleeping town of Portland, a shooting star flashed briefly overhead. It felt like another gift and a message: I was in the right place at the right time.

As I got out of my car at the marsh, I marveled at the warmth. The sun still hadn’t risen and the temperatures were hovering around 60˚F! (Last weekend it had been in the 30s and my fingers had been aching with cold!) After a week of sunshine and warmth, everything was lush and full. The air was filled with bird song, the tide was high, and the skies were criss crossed with silhouettes of birds flying solo or in groups. Every salt panne and pond was filled with bird life or mesmerizing reflections of cloud and sky. Every where I looked there was something moving, singing, growing, breathing. The morning was suffused with beauty, and I was lucky enough to be out there in the midst of it, thankful for the gift of it all.

April 9, 2019 by mbhmaine

SOL–Dawn at Scarborough Marsh

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On a chilly morning in April, there is a subdued beauty to the marsh. Filled with subtlety and variation, it’s a sensory feast. The sky transitions from peach to brilliant gold, lighting the mist that lies low over the grassy hummocks and tide-carved channels. The promise of color lies hidden in silhouettes. The rising sun rays brush the low-lying mist, setting it aglow. They light the feathery edges of fern grass with an amber glow and caress the bellies of flying mallards against brilliant blue skies. Gulls call and crows caw. The air is chilly and permeated with the deep rich scent of damp earth and the organic tang of swampy water. Song sparrows rustle and flit from shrub to shrub, intermittently singing their sweet notes. A great blue heron picks its way through the shallows. It’s a glorious place to greet the new day.