Tidal Pull

The other morning, I witnessed something I have never seen before; and, my neighbor Ed was there, too, and from the expression on his face, he had never seen anything like it before either. At the end of the lane, Turbat's Creek backs up and becomes a very small tidal inlet which runs deep into a marsh and around a sharp bend and up into what feels like the woods. In Maine, we have a decent tide and so the difference between low tide and high tide is significant. I've actually heard tourists say things like, "where did the water go?" when looking out at a harbor full of grounded boats and buoys. So, we stood there watching the dogs play and commenting on how it was another cool, damp morning for June when we both noticed it at the same time. A small wave came rolling into the tidal marsh, bringing with it the tide in full. It started slowly, making its way into the basin and around the bend, back to the woods. The initial wave held its shape the entire distance of the tidal inlet, which was spectacular to see. My words do not seem to give it the justice it deserves; but what we saw really impressed us both, and between us we have been gazing out to sea and across Turbat's Creek and other tidal rivers for over one hundred years; neither one of us had ever seen anything quite like it.

High Tide at the Creek

I was tempted to stand and wait for it to happen again the following morning. Silly me. The tide was an hour later, the moon was in a different position, and it would probably be a long, long time before I am lucky enough to see it happen again. Tonight's full moon will bring an astronomical high tide, and with luck I will be sleeping deeply, dreaming of long summer days and warm summer nights. The day job has ended for a spell and so the Salty Ewe can regroup and refocus on what is truly important in life: listening to the ebb and flow, taking it in and being thankful. Life is nothing but that, really. Happy Summer.