Standing within the last of the honey-toned light of a February afternoon, while drinking down an icy breeze, is, physically and literally, a sensational contradiction. That’s what we were doing standing here all alone on Sunday (February 16), watching and hearing Patten Stream tumble into Patten Bay. It was a moment to “come into the peace of wild things,” as Wendell Berry did when “despair for the world” grew in him.

i-H5q9sXm-X3.jpg

We would not be alone in this beautiful place if it were spring or summer. When the alewives and glass eels migrate in from the open Atlantic to swim up the Stream, this becomes a place where wildlife with wings and fins learn to tolerate humans with nets and cameras.

Upstream, there’s about 1200 acres of clear spawning waters, much of them within 41 acres of conservation property that is open for the hiking public. At the mouth of the Stream that we see here, we’ve watched bald eagles, ospreys, crested cormorants, sea gulls, loons, diving ducks, herons, and – just behind us in the Bay – circling harbor seals. But now, it’s just us and the peace that we’ve found. (Surry, Maine)

Comment