Saturday, October 16
TIDAL MARSH Who am I to grieve no heron came to meet me in the estuary. I am not of this place. Neither silt nor smolt. Neither bulrush nor eelgrass. Not crab, not chum. Not Stillaguamish. I sought a balancer, a bearded blue sign with a golden beak and submerged talons you just have to believe in. Fisher, hunter, sight among men. (Constance Hansen)