The Wrack

We listen to the rain patter against the roof of leaves of the wise old copper beech tree as campers and I munch lunch. The vast canopy gives the impression of a complete ceiling of wood and leaves, but campers are able to look closely and discover something remarkably unique.

The Wells Reserve recently hosted coastal communities from Kittery to Scarborough for a workshop titled Tracking Progress - Better Safe than Sorry. The workshop was a combination of presentations and group discussions for participants to discuss how their communities are working to improve their resilience to coastal hazards and extreme weather events in light of climate change. The workshop gave participants the opportunity to identify shared goals and track progress towards these goals.

On December 24, 1968, the Apollo 8 mission team shared this photo of Earth as seen from orbit around the moon. ?This photograph has since been credited with igniting the second wave of modern environmentalism in the United States, as people realized that the Earth was a small and unique oasis in the vastness of the universe. While modern American environmentalism has come a long way, it has slowed from a speed run to a painstakingly slow walk over the last few decades.

Last week we welcomed our first campers of the summer. This camp, titled Earth Stewards, focused on ways we can appreciate and honor the earth. A highlight for campers was a boat ride/driving opportunity, around Wells Harbor with stewardship coordinator Tin Smith and environmental educator Linda Littlefield Grenfell as our guides.

On the trip, we had the opportunity to look at the harbor and beach from far offshore, navigate the twists of the river, and stick our faces just above the water where hundreds of sand lances sparkled in the sun. This boat trip truly provided campers  and myself  a new perspective on this place. On the drive back from the harbor, one camper exclaimed she would never see the harbor in the same way again.

Whos been spitting in the grass? Stick your fingers into the frothy mass and youll likely find a cool and moist tiny lime-colored creature with black eyes. This is the nymph (or immature form) of a spittlebug (Cercopidae).

Its been 7 years since we started collecting larval fish and 3 years since our last update (See Team Larval Fish at the Wells Reserve) so its time for another look at the wonderful world of larval fish! Weve had some exciting developments over that time and attended some professional meetings where we have made connections with other researchers working on early life stages of fishes.

I have volunteered at environmental centers for most of my life. The most popular question by far is some variation on "Where is everything? We didn't see anything!" They probably saw lots of things — but just didn't notice them.

Tonight's full moon is the first of two full moons this month. Modern convention will label it a blue moon.

On one of my first days here at the Wells Reserve at Laudholm, I was given a very simple task by my supervisor: familiarize yourself with the exhibit areas. ?As the sunlight illuminated the office floor and the cool breeze rushed through my window, as if beckoning me to go outside for a walk, staying indoors was the exact opposite of the interesting afternoon I had in mind. ?Reading displays and interpretive signs for hours seemed incredibly boring.

Thankfully, I was wrong.

The following was published in the Biddeford-Saco?Journal Tribune Sunday edition, 6/21/2015.

As I stood in the kitchen of my New York apartment coming to grips with the news of my fathers sudden death, something spooky happened. One of my fathers favorite tunes, Always Look on the Bright Side of Life from the Monty Python film The Life of Brian, began playing. My father had been found dead only hours before, and now a clear reminder of him was spontaneously emanating from some luggage in the corner.

I assumed it was a cell phone ringtone, but standing there, in that most alone moment of my life, I had no explanation for why someone would be phoning a suitcase, or why my fathers song was suddenly playing.