Sometimes I can be done with work early enough to glimpse the last gleams of daybreak at the marsh. Glorious days, those.

The marsh in rainy weather has a different feel. The soft susurrus of the rain over trees and fields, ponds and riverbanks, pulls me in.

On a frigid winter’s day, it did happen. I saw a coyote on the trail.

February is a quiet month here at the marsh. That is, until a wind comes.