Acadia National Park - Forests by the Sea

Unlike most other coasts, where the sea gradually gives way to sand dunes and high-grass marshes before forests take hold, Acadia changes directly from water to forest, with trees crowding close to the water. Conifer cones float in tide pools; tree squirrels scamper along ocean-sprayed cliffs; gnarled tree roots shade slick, algae-covered rocks; and seaside spruces, stunted and twisted by storm-whipped winds, guard the continent's edge. Farther inland, red spruce grow to 70-foot-high beauties and drop their sharp, stiff needles onto grassy bogs and swiftly flowing streams. Mixed in the red spruce forest are other kinds of spruce, several types of pine, white, red, pitch, and jack, and the sweet-smelling balsam fir. Most unusual is the tamarack, or eastern larch, which sheds its needles after they turn a dusty gold, adding an unexpected touch of glory to autumn's already magnificent show of color.

As if Jack Frost had been presented with a set of paints, in September hillsides covered with maples, birches, and aspens begin to sport tiny dabs of yellow and red. Soon the artist picks up a broader brush, and slaps colors across entire groves. By October the all-green slopes are a glowing patchwork of crimsons, golds, and burnt-oranges; here and there unvarying firs provide a steady anchor of green. Beautiful but brief, the show is over all too soon, and the branches stretch out spindly and leafless. Once again the tall, stately dark green conifers dominate the landscape.

Acadia's autumn extravaganza was not always so extensive. Evergreens once covered a larger part of the park, but the vegetation changed dramatically after the Great Fire of October 1947 engulfed more than 17,000 acres. After the evergreens' deep shade was gone, quaking aspen, pin cherry, and gray and paper birch, all sun-loving trees, took root and thrived. The new trees, some in pure stands and others mixed with evergreens, afforded food and shelter for squirrels, deer, foxes, beavers (their fondness for aspens is legendary), and such birds as wood thrushes, woodcocks, and scarlet tanagers.

The oddest of these is the woodcock, a chunky, robin-sized member of the sandpiper clan whose sharply pointed bill is disproportionately long for its body. In the dusk of spring evenings, the male woodcock begins its acrobatic courtship. Landing in a clearing, he announces his arrival with a thin, nasal peent. Suddenly he takes off in a spiral, his wings producing a whistle-like sound. Circling higher and higher, he climbs until he is just a dark spot in the sky; then he tumbles down, warbling softly. Leveling off, he hovers just above ground and lands delicately on the same bare spot where he began. Then he starts the whole routine once again. The musicale may continue for hours, long after a silvery moon has replaced the setting sun.

Beginning in April, wildflowers sprinkle their hues against spring's renewed green. In the forests, sweet-scented trailing arbutus is followed by pink lady's slipper and painted trillium, its "paint" a tinge of crimson atop the petals' whiteness. Bunchberry, a low-growing dogwood, covers the ground in June with bridal-white flower heads, which mature into clusters of brilliant red berries in August. On sunny slopes, lupine holds its stalk of pealike flowers erect while the harebell, a blue, bell-shaped flower, nods delicately on its stem. The single flower of the rose pogonia decorates bogs and wet shores, and jewelweed, also called touch-me-not, produces sedpods that explode at the faintest touch, sending seeds flying in all directions.

A system of carriage roads cuts through the forests and valleys, crosses quaint stone bridges, and winds past glassy lakes and bubbly streams. Other roads climb to the top of Cadillac Mountain, the highest point on North America's eastern coastline. From its summit you can see all the glory that is Acadia, from the rich expanse of evergreen forests, to the rugged shore dotted with fishing villages and elegant mansions, and to the sea beyond, where colorful lobster buoys bob in the water and dome-shaped islands stretch to the horizon. You can almost hear the sound of white-tipped waves as they roll rhythmically to the shore, pounding like the eternal heartbeat of the earth.