“This morning, I woke at about 6 to the most beautiful and complex birdsong I’ve ever heard — nothing like any other birdsong I’ve ever encountered, in Maine or elsewhere.  It kept going for a good few minutes then abruptly fell silent, so suddenly it almost seemed like someone had shut off a radio.  It must have been some migratory bird on its way south, but I have no idea what.

 So went a comment from Liz Hand on the LBB (L’ville Bulletin Board) the other day, wondering how she might find out what it was. It’s a thread that runs through the posts to our community Google group, observations on the creatures that share these thirty-nine square miles with the 2,164 of us humans.

Essentially, we live in a forest, albeit a forest bounded by and encasing water. Four miles of seashore form one boundary, while numerous ponds and streams and marshland dot the forest. Wherever a field has been kept open by mowing, its edges are constantly being encroached upon by the surrounding woods.

 The 2,000-plus of us have certainly made our mark on the land – asphalt roads, concrete foundations, bright lights illuminating the hours which are meant to be dark. Vehicles trailing harsh sounds and unnatural substances travel indiscriminately wherever a road has been made. Houses emit smoke from wood and oil burning. Our septic tanks and leach fields disperse water fouled with human waste into the soil, and eventually into the streams, ponds and Bay.

And all the while, we share with uncounted millions of organisms – from the tinest single-celled thing floating in a vernal pool to the bull moose crashing through the underbrush –this land bounded by Bay on one side and man-made marks on a map on the other sides.

A recent encounter with a visitor at the Beach reminded me how comfortable we who live here are with our world. And how foreign it can seem to someone living in a more populated place.

“Can you tell me what this plant is?” she asked, pointing to the rugged rugosa roses growing along the seawall. Even if you don’t know its official name, anyone living near the shore knows it as a hardy rose.

 In fact, all it really takes is curiosity. That woman had it, enough to ask at any rate. She wanted to know.

 With the proliferation of devices such as cell phone cameras that take videos, trail cameras, and video cams trained on nests we now have a glimpse into the world inhabited by the other million creatures. As wonderful as the photos are, plain old observation still goes a long way.

 Another visitor spotted scat on a walk along the shore, poop filled with bits of lobster and crab shell, deposited up in the woods, a ways back from the rocky beach. What animal could have left that calling card? Together we posted a query on the LBB, wondering if anyone else had seen such a thing. Speculation ran from coyote to otter to raccoon. Of course, there’ll probably be a photo posted of the intriguing stuff, and comparisons to Google images of various scat. Stay tuned.

 All animals leave some trace of their passage through our world – across our roads, in our gardens, on the shore – but we need to be observant and curious enough to notice. On rainy nights the amphibians get wanderlust; the next morning the sad evidence – squished salamanders and frogs – is all over the roads.

 And following a night of debauchery among the ripening apples and grapes, the blueberries and blackberries fruit-filled poop can be found on the same road. One pile the other day stopped me; it was unusually large. Now what animal….? I settled on a bear, but perhaps a coyote?

 If you’ve ever stalked the elusive tomato hornworm you’ve probably started with its poop. Great piles on the lower leaves of your tomato plants is all the evidence you need. Somewhere in the green tangle of leaves above it lurks an enormous, finger-sized caterpillar. I found eight the other evening, with the help of a black light flashlight, and then wondered what to do with them. I resisted the urge to step on them, instead, saved them for the morning and fed them to the guinea keets and chickens.

 With my family living upstairs this summer has come their two cats, sweet Emma and killer Noah. Emma is “sweet” because, though she cats around outside all night, she brings home no evidence. Killer Noah, on the other hand, carries in a critter every morning, tail dangling out one side of his mouth – mice, shrews, and a couple of suspiciously large rodents that make me worry that the rat-sized poop I’m finding in the chicken coop might be just that.

 Meanwhile, every low tide I look for the heron that hangs out down on the flats. As one woman told me the other morning as we watched the sunrise together: “I’ll never take it for granted. Never take if for granted.”

Library

The next Book Group selection is Love and Ruin by Paula McLain. GoodReads says about this book: ‘a novel about Ernest Hemingway’s passionate, stormy marriage to Martha Gellhorn—a fiercely independent, ambitious young woman who would become one of the greatest war correspondents of the twentieth century.” The group meets Tuesday September 18 at 6 p.m. 

October’s book will be Warlight by Michael Ondaatje (The English Patient). Book Group will meet Tuesday October 16 for that one.

Pickleball Anyone?

Come and play! Introduction to Pickleball & Open Play sessions will be held during the month of  September at our Town courts, located at the school on Lynx Drive, Saturday mornings (9:00 -10:30 a.m.) and Thursday evenings 5:45 - 7:15 p.m.) during September, weather permitting. To learn more about the game, check here www.USAPA.org.  Beginners welcome!

For more information about Lincolnville Community Pickleball, contact

Greta Gulezian at 763-4863 or email gzgulezian@gmail.com.

Pickles, Preserves and Pies

The third annual P.P. and P. Festival is coming up, Saturday, October 6. To sign up to sell your pickles, preserves or pies, contact Jane Liedtke jane@bayleafcottages.com.