The Autumn Marsh of Inner Saginaw Bay

The big water of Saginaw Bay is surrounded by a fragile ecosystem that teems with life.  The marsh is a buffer between the waves of Lake Huron and the land that supports the farmer.  The marsh is not a simple thing but is composed of Phragmites and Reed Grass and Wild Rice and shallow mud sitting upon limestone.  There is life there of all kinds: snakes and muskrat, white tailed deer, waterfowl and marsh hawks, yellow capped chickadee and snipe, minnows and those fish that seek them such as bass and perch and walleyes.

To experience the marsh and all it holds means that you must start in the dark of late night. Make your way down deer paths or overgrown channels that once could float your boat.  At the shore, canoe out into the shallow water and look up.  The dark sky is alive with the light of billions of stars.  Constellations are written across the darkness.  Shooting stars and meteors slash across the sky and flame brightly toward the horizon.  The darkness plays games with our ability to determine distance.  The expanse of shallow water seems much wider than it really is.  The star light is just bright enough to guide your way to a marsh island where the earth is firm enough to bring the canoe ashore. The canoe becomes a steady perch to watch the marsh come alive.
 
The night is silent.  No traffic sounds nor trains nor horns nor the sound of cottage doors slamming.  All you hear is the breeze rustle the reeds.  Occasionally something flies swiftly overhead in the dark.  Then, ever so slowly, the night begins to dim, as if someone gradually turns down a rheostat.  The black of night is dimmed into gray.  Most of the stars disappear and only the brightest still is visible.  Then, ever so slowly, the eastern horizon begin to change from black to gray to dark blue to violet.  Shapes become ever more distinct. Distances shorten.  Light grows in the marsh.

Then you begin to hear the mallards begin to "talk".  They give their feeding call and it is answered further down the marsh.  Other waterfowl begin to stir and you can hear their wing beats as the fly overhead.  As the sky get lighter you see the geese as they begin to stir and head inland to eat on farmer's fields.  Blue Bills, Red Heads and other divers begin to raft up and fly either along the shore out out to the islands.  The clouds begin to shine as the sun, still below the horizon, colors them is reds and oranges and yellows and golds.  When the sun finally comes over the horizon, the wild rice shines like woven gold.  Marsh hawks begin their flights and an occasional eagle soars high overhead.  The shore birds fly back and forth and Green Wing Teal zoom past low over the water.  Gulls circle looking for the schools of minnows.  Occasionally you see a white tailed deer dash through the shallow water heading to the firmer ground of a nearby island.

As the day grows brighter, the wind freshens and the phragmites wave back and forth.  Mallards settle in pot holes looking for the wild rice.  The day moves forward toward a repeat of the cycle.  The marsh is alive.