Field Notes - Maumee Bay State Park
The first thing I notice is how loud the birds are. They hide in the thick dead trees. They’re obviously not talking to me yet it feels passive aggressive. Like I’m a neighbor they tolerate. The breeze makes thousands of swamp reeds sound like skin scratching. The arrangement ebbs and flows as you go deeper. These tall beautiful phragmites are invasive and have choked out the native plants. There are few landmarks here, you must instead trust that each bend in the walkway eventually leads back to your car.
The Santa Monica beaches shine with tiny waterfront mansions, street performers, and beautiful strangers. We packed everything in our cars. We started over. The endless transplants make the city feel youthful but never familiar. It’s nice to be a beautiful stranger for once. We all picture our faces on the billboard.
The waves of Lake Erie are low and constant. The green-grey water like fading wallpaper. There are no ferris wheels. No boomboxes. No crab shacks. It’s not for you. It quietly rebuilds, not concerned about the odds. Fighting for its life while we watch the news.
March 15, 2026
