

As someone who guides hikes and nature walks, I’m careful not to promise my clients that they’ll see specific types of wildlife like moose, a fan favorite. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. However, chances are high that we’ll see some animals during our excursion. The Maine woods and waters are filled with interesting critters.
In fact, sometimes, you almost step on them.
Such was the case during a recent adventure I guided on the coast. For the day-long adventure, I led four people on hiking trails in eastern Maine, pointing out various flora, fauna and fungi along the way.
As we followed a trail along the edge of a rocky beach in Steuben, one of my clients called out, “Did you see the porcupine? You almost stepped on it!”
I looked behind me to see a young porcupine (by its small size) waddling through tangled vines of sea peas. It crossed the path, scrambling over round, wave-tossed stones, then disappeared into a patch of sun-burnt grass.
I would have missed the adorable quill pig if it hadn’t been for my sharp-eyed client. That’s one of the benefits of hiking with companions. The more eyes you have on the landscape, the more you can observe.

Most of the people who hire me to guide them on trails are interested in seeing as much wildlife as possible — though some express worry about disturbing a black bear. I assure them that if we do meet a bear, we’ll likely get a good view of its rear end as it runs in the opposite direction. (There are always exceptions to the norm, but in general, Maine black bears want nothing to do with people.)
Most of the advice I give clients about looking for wildlife is fairly obvious. Be quiet, walk slowly and pause often to take in your surroundings. Carry binoculars to identify and watch animals from afar. Visit different habitats for a diversity of creatures.
Also, it can be helpful to research what animals you’re likely to find in certain habitats. For example, as the trail approached the ocean that day, I knew to look out for birds that hunt fish and shellfish. Ospreys, shorebirds, gulls and sea ducks.
On the beach, we found a large group of plovers and sandpipers hunting for marine worms. Hoof-prints marked the sand, alerting us to a nearby white-tailed deer. Cormorants perched on outcroppings just offshore, their wings outstretched to dry in the sun.

I could have predicted all of these animals just because of the habitat and my knowledge of the property. But often, wildlife surprises me.

As I sat on a shelf of bedrock at the high-tide mark, I watched six monarch butterflies fly overhead and across the water, one after another. While I know that monarchs travel south to spend the winter in Mexico, I didn’t expect to find myself in one of their migratory paths.
That leads me to my best tip of spotting wildlife on the Maine coast and beyond: Keep your eyes open to all the possibilities. Rather than hanging your hopes on seeing a certain species — say a bald eagle or a harbor seal — approach the wilderness with the goal of discovering its complexities and enjoying any creature that crosses your path.

This approach is similar to my philosophy for shopping. I know that if I shop for something specific — say a red dress — not only will I likely not find that item, but I’ll ignore some great articles of clothing in my blind pursuit for it. While my eyes scan clothing racks for red fabric, they’ll miss the green polka-dotted skirt that might have suited me far better.
So, in dress shopping and wildlife watching, it’s best to keep your mind open. That doesn’t mean you don’t visit a shop or habitat where you’re likely to find success. Maybe that red dress or bald eagle will appear after all. But allow yourself to be derailed by polka dots and monarch butterflies.
Sometimes this approach is easier for people who are new to the outdoors. While guiding hikes this summer, I watched out-of-staters become excited about Maine’s black-capped chickadees and sassy red squirrels — common animals that I usually look right past. It was refreshing to spend time in the woods with people who found the beauty in those everyday creatures.
Children also have an easy time with this open-minded approach to wildlife watching. My youngest client yet, a 3-year-old boy from New York (accompanied by his parents), was elated upon seeing several green frogs sitting on lilypads in the Wild Gardens of Acadia. It was raining steadily during our nature walk, but he didn’t complain once. He was too busy counting frogs.

On my most recent guided adventure — the one where I almost stepped on the porcupine — my reluctance to promise wildlife turned into a bit of a joke. Throughout the day, every time we spied even the smallest creature, we’d exclaim “wildlife!” This indiscriminate enthusiasm infused our adventure with positive energy that made the outing feel like a celebration.
A beige moth clinging to a tree trunk as it slept the day away. The fuzzy yellow caterpillar with its long whiskers and bright orange face. Lion’s mane jellyfish washed up on the shore, their transparent maroon bodies as big as pie plates. Shorebirds flying in unison, like a school of fish in the sky. These are the things we saw.

On another day, who knows what we would have seen? It’s the uncertainty of wildlife watching that makes it so fun.







