Punkinfiddle morning we are immersed in the tidal flow of family fun. Kids hold their painted pumpkins out in front of painted faces, while more professional pumpkin transformers are fashioning a mouthful of sharp teeth embedded in the formidable jaw of a pumpkin carnivore. For some, the relaxed ebb and flow means leisurely viewing the exhibits of bee culture and wool spinning. Others with more purpose emerge from the line beside the ice house, smiling down at their grease-stained bag of warm cider donuts. The laughter of young voices floating over the scene reminds us that the enjoyment of simple things can be the most rewarding.

Joan and I finish our volunteer stint and walk past the crowd sitting on bales of hay, swaying to a fiddler’s energetic chords. Now that the cooler days have arrived we decide to walk the Muskie Trail. After passing the waving stalks and white floral balls of common pipewort bending over red-ripe cranberries, I cannot resist the shaded bench beside the field. I look across the colored landscape to folks on the distant hillside applauding as border collies, noses and bellies low to the ground, turn the sheep in a direction they do not choose to go. Above the field, several kites with long tails rise to the autumn breeze. Moving my binoculars to the right, I can see kids tumbling and rolling down the hill. At my feet, bluebirds are landing in the newly mowed field, looking for choice morsels. Phoebes are darting from tree branches, capturing insect prey in mid air.

Now Joan joins me to report seeing a sandhill crane in the overlook marsh and an adult ruffed grouse, with two young, beside the trail.

All of this on Estuaries Day, right here in this magical place called Laudholm.