I am continuing my series of Lincoln Marsh through time. I love the long-form attention that one needs to go back to the same spot and listen to it, watch it, document it. I’ve learned a lot about the affects of drought and the patterns of nature.
Yesterday was propitious, given the fog of morning and the early hour of my pre-Thanksgiving journey to get the kids. I caught the marsh in a harsh mode, which reminded me why we have a national feast at this time— we’re actually quite scared to see decay around us. The natural thing is to take stock of our assets. This stock-taking is the essence of harvest. Our thoughts naturally turn inward, wondering if we’ll have enough— food, gusto, will, whatever— to make it through to Spring. There are four people in my home in this moment, and they are the only stock I need.
Anyway, onto my discoveries. Some plants are in mid-death:
There’s an odd spidery film on many of the plants:
And the fog made for fear:
On the other hand, after the rough dry spring and summer, when the pond became a carpet of grass:
Some water has returned to the marsh:
Happy Thanksgiving. Complete set here.