The sun cuts through the mist slowly. Its early autumn, and the marine layer is thin this morning. The tide pulls the water away from the shore, and leaves short stretches of tidal flats whose slick surfaces reflect the rising sun. Along the banks plovers skitter in search of food, their warbles cut through the mist. The fog dissipates, and the air warms. A slight breeze stirs the marsh grasses, a whisper from the river. The salt marsh follows a little inlet toward shore, where its low, coarse soil meets high grasses and marine border shrubs. The maples and oaks have just begun to lose their summer green in exchange for the tapestry of October. This is the block between 101^st and 102^nd street along 1^st avenue as it is presumed to have been 400 years ago. Today there are housing projects and fast food joints over the land that was once a salt marsh along the East River, and many, if not all the native plants and animals no longer grow in this concrete garden.

Ian