Editions

Series 1

Pleasant River | Columbia Falls, Maine

A place of beautiful contradictions. Primeval. Enchanting. Sublime peace, then sudden energy — eagles gathering in numbers I still don't quite believe; one morning I counted at least fifteen in the trees and on the water. Fog so dense it cloaks the wildlife and nearly every sign of human life, everything gone secret — then light revealing the shape of the river again.

The Pleasant River flows out of the barrens of Washington County to reach tidewater at Columbia Falls. Here the Downeast Salmon Federation runs a small conservation hatchery near the site of a former dam, removed to let the fish pass again. For generations, families have fished these tidal waters for rainbow smelt — sea-run fish that spawn upstream each spring.

I have returned at different hours — early morning, dusk, and the spaces between, depending on light and tide. In fog, the air is thick with sound: gulls carrying on, eagles piping to each other across the treeline, the steady roar of the falls. When the tide pulls out, the flats open: dark mud rich with shells and rushes, the whole estuary breathing in and out on its own clock, the way it has for thousands of years. Across the road from the hatchery, the bell rings in the old Union Church, now the town library.

Fifteen minutes from my door. A place I return to, to be still and to work — and to be worked by the tide.