the first time

It's the first time I've seen the marsh turn into an ocean, surf tumbling in the wind. That was last night. This morning, it's all gone. Low tide. No ocean, not even the small "river" running by our dock.

It's the first time I've ever seen anyone actually on the marsh, except in a rowboat or cayak. Today a man walked a good distance across the wet grass -- I followed him with binoculars -- he had red pants on but I couldn't tell if he wore boots. I imagined them on his feet. He carried a bucket and a net was swung over his shoulder. Was he going after oysters? Now, there he stands, places his bucket on the floor of the marsh where he was going to -- fish? He threw his net into the shallow water, as the pelicans, 3 of them swooped down, dipped their beaks into the water, up, away, back down, dip, a quick low, swirling flight over the man's head and up into the sky, circling and back down again. It was fun to watch.

But my eye moved over and saw another man walking the same path through the marsh. He was under a red hat. He soon joined the first man, and together they peered into the water, had a discussion, stood pondering for awhile. Soon the man in the red hat, carrying the bucket offered him, went further along the marsh and further out of my sight. Yes, he completely disappeared, but the pelicans could see him and swooped down where I guessed he was, then. I watched the pelicans up, down, up, down and again and back over to where the first man was "fishing" with his net.

Carol just walked out on the dock and snapped a picture. "Too far away," she said and returned to the house. She brought me in out of the noonday sun. I was loving it out there but she said it was too hot.

I found a spot on the porch and with binoculars, looked out again over the marsh. Then is when it flew overhead, It was the first time I had ever seen the GoodYear blimp fly over the marsh. But no great thrill! Give me pelicans anytime, or herons. And a hawk will leave me breathless anytime, but not a Goodyear blimp.

Now, the red hat is moving further away , judging by the gulls now (pelicans having left, flying to distances out of my sight). The first man is now standing knee deep in the shallow water and peering down into it. Not very active in the water or out. No pelicans, a few gulls. Oh, here they come! One, two, three pelicans back again, swooping down, an occasional quick dip into the water, up and over. Are they finding what the fisherman can't find? He apparently doesn't like the pelicans to come too close and tries to scare them with his net, then flings it across the water. What is he after? Crabs probably, Carol said. I think the man is thinking about quitting -- the pelicans aren't, not yet.

The second man (in the red hat) with the first man's bucket, is now moving back to where the first man is standing, without action now. And the pelicans are leaving. He puts the bucket down and the first man comes out of the water. The two are standing there, discussing what? The catch, probably, or no catch. I watch two immobile individuals, with the red hat, with the red pants, until my eyes tire and I put down the binoculars. What do they expect.? Do they think I'm taking their picture?

After a short rest for my eyes, I pick up the binoculars.

What are they finding to talk about? The tide, whether it's worthwhile to wait until it starts to come in? If they waited for dusk, are they safe here? Personally, I think they had better think about getting out of there. How does it go? Time and Tide wait for no man?

A little wren is sitting there on the porch raill post. I move closer. She sings Ooh! That's a bit loud, isn't it? I sat -- still -- and she continued her shrill song -- that for me?

There they go -- the man in the red pants and the man under the red hat. They're headed, homeward, with net and bucket -- any luck? crabs?