A Hike on the Heath

October 12, 2016 by seabluelee 29 Comments

I woke up early Saturday morning, too early. I got back into bed and closed my eyes, hoping for another hour or so of sleep. There was really no reason to get up. Except…there’s a place I’ve been thinking about visiting, and I had a sudden urge to do it NOW. So I got up again, got dressed, grabbed a jacket and my camera, and headed out the door.

A few minutes later, I was alone in the small dirt parking lot at Saco Heath — but not for long. Another vehicle pulled in as I was getting out of my car and a man got out, a large coffee in a disposable cup in his hand. We walked along the woodland trail together for a short way, chatting about the beautiful morning. Then he excused himself to “set a pace,” and took off down the path with long strides, leaving me and my camera in happy solitude.

Ferns glowed in the dim woods.

Sunlight brushed just the treetops.

A graceful fungus thoughtfully placed itself exactly at my eye level.

The heath is a unique geographic feature that is interesting and beautiful any time of year. And as I emerged from the woods onto the boardwalk at the edge of the heath, the sight took my breath away.

The heath glowed in the rising sun and ground fog lingered among the trees.

Every web, twig, and blade of grass was covered in silvery dew, backlit by the sun.

I’ve never seen the cottongrass in such abundance before.

The farther I went, the more magical the light became. It was like wandering into a fairyland.

At the opposite side of the heath, the path enters another wood. It was brighter now.

Two tiny strands of web at the tip of a pine needle were beaded with the minutest drops of water.

Streaks of sunlight picked out details on the ground.

A stray beam spotlighted a branch of golden leaves.

The walk back under full sun had a very different look and feel.

The bordering woods displayed a wall of bright color.

But the path through them still looked dark and mysterious.

Leaves sprinkled the boardwalk like confetti.

And the ferns in their festive autumn garb gently waved goodbye.

I didn’t miss that extra hour of sleep one little bit.