May 21: Zen of birding

sea breathing at my back

in the spruce boughs singing

one tiny warbler

October 17: Schoodic

Arrived in the dark

we hear the sea's dark pulse

glory in all the stars

June 1: Nest

Helped lead a walk today as part of the Acadia Birding Festival on Mount Desert Island, on the Wonderland Trail in Acadia National Park. The short trail passes through stunted boreal spruce and jack pine forest to emerge on the granite shores of the sea. As we scanned the waves, one participant looked down instead... and found the nest of a Song Sparrow tucked in a rose bush, neatly cupping four mottled blue eggs.

Vastness that is sea
alongside these small blue eggs,
singing sparrow.

January 31: Roar

This morning I awoke to a roar outside that made me think for a brief instant that I was back in my usual bedroom on Monhegan hearing the sound of the surf pounding the island's rocky shore. Instead, gale force winds and driving rain engulfed the house with a loud, malevolent energy, flinging branches. Lights flickered. The river, wild with storm water, added its own white noise to the scene.

A co-worker's child told him the trees blowing outside their house this morning looked like "angry hair."

A few hours later, however, all is calm. Big patches of blue sky shine behind breaking clouds. The trees barely stir, and the temperature is almost the same outside as it is in. Ah, the vagaries of the weather in New England.

Roar of the sea familiar
outside my bedroom window.
I wish I were back there.

January 12: Scent of the sea

Walking toward the entrance to the gym this morning, I took a deep breath--the damp, unseasonably warm air held that salt scent of the sea. Camden's a harbor town, but sometimes you can forget if the water's not right in front of you. But today's air circulation pattern was carrying that moist ocean air right into the YMCA parking lot, along with the cries of nearby gulls. For a few seconds, an image of waves lapping rockweed-bedecked stones flashed through my head. Then I stepped inside.

Sea air in my lungs,
I'm ionized
for my indoor run.

August 25: Boat in a Storm

The sky is looking glowery and the wind's picking up. A storm's on the way, and I'm not talking about Hurricane Irene (although that storm is also apparently on its way). And with this weather report, we're about to blithely board a boat to North Haven to enjoy dinner at Nebo Lodge. The boat captain brushed off inquiries about possibly canceling the trip due to weather, so we're ready for an adventure. I just hope that after our big meal on the island, our ride back isn't more adventurous than our stomachs can handle...

"Oh God, thy sea is so great and my boat is so small." --Breton fishermen's prayer

We're small things at sea.
May the wind sing us to sleep
rocked in boat's cradle.

Update: The ride out with Equinox Island Transit was a little wet, but the sky cleared beautifully as we reached North Haven. After an excellent meal, we sped back to Rockland almost in time to miss the thunderstorm. Very dramatic to see from the water Owls Head Light and the Breakwater Light shining in the mist as lightning flashed around us and thunder rumbled overhead. And then, of course, the torrential rain, as if the spray from the boat ride hadn't made us wet enough. Truly exhilarating.