At Farmington Bay

By Elizabeth Smith

Trucks full of gravel slow us on the country road, adorned with traffic cones until we turn toward the trailhead. We stroll, my family and I, along the thawed marsh, where we see the usual ducks and Canadian geese, as well as a pod of grayish pelicans wading in the creek. My daughters whine that it is a long way for their little rain boots to walk, as we pass by tall grass and hear the trucks rumble, dumping their loads for the necessary highway to the east. Although it is our first visit to the bay, I ache at the signs of inevitable change—soon this refuge may never be quiet again.

As we rest by the reeds, I also hear the familiar trills of blackbirds. Unchanging.


John RC Potter said…
This eloquently written piece speaks volumes, what with "the signs of inevitable change" that affect the habitats of wildlife. I live in Istanbul, but am now in Canada for a visit; my family and friends are concerned about the same issue. Kudos to the author! John RC Potter

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