Linda Woodard was the only person at the Scarborough Marsh Audubon Center at 8 a.m. on a recent humid Thursday, a few hours after high tide. She’s easing into retirement after 35 years with the center, but the former executive director is having a hard time letting go.

“It’s like my baby,” she said. “I know this river so well. I know what birds you would expect to see around the bend.”

Woodard has been birding since she was a little girl, but her passion grew after she took an ornithology class for her biology degree in college. And with a background in environmental education, she’s always been eager to bring people into the hobby.

IF YOU’RE GETTING INTO BIRDING

Try it, Woodard said. Get out there and look. The Scarborough Marsh Audubon Center hosts guided bird walks around the Scarborough Marsh on Wednesdays at 8 a.m., and there are opportunities for guided canoe trips during the summer season.

And in terms of equipment, Woodard said all you really need are binoculars and a field book.

Binoculars range in price and quality, with solid ones costing less than $200. She said that quality generally does increase with price, but you should be able to bird with anything with a magnification level of eight or higher.

The Audubon Center has different kinds of binoculars available for their walks, and Woodard encourages anyone to stop by and try them out before making a purchase.

For field books, Woodard recommends “The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Eastern North America” or any of Sibley’s field guides.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Woodard showed the Portland Press Herald three birding locations in the expansive 3,100-acre Scarborough marsh, places in the neighborhood that hobbyists of all levels can go to watch birds.

PINE POINT TOWN LANDING

The first stop was Pine Point harbor, an area that bore evidence of a working waterfront. A boat laden with lobster traps slowly put into the water. Gulls gawked, and the scent of fish wafted through the relatively still air.

Woodard led the way to the pier along the pedestrian boardwalk, explaining that three kinds of endangered terns come to this area to feed: the arctic tern, which has the longest migration of any bird in the world; the least tern, an aptly named smaller tern; and the roseate tern, with its gray back. The common tern flocks to the area in higher numbers, Woodard said as she peered at the salt marsh through her binoculars.

These birds nest on Stratton Island, an island off the coast of Old Orchard Beach, but they fly all the way to the Scarborough Marsh in search of small fish like mummichogs. As Woodard set up her viewing scope, a feeding frenzy was under way.

“They sound like squeaky toys,” she said.

From a distance, the birds looked like pieces of confetti floating through the air. Through the binoculars, their dance looked more calculated, like some sort of elaborate choreography. Every once in a while, a bird’s path went completely vertical, and they careened towards the water at top speeds. The cushions in their necks protect them from impact when they dive head first.

“Their ratio isn’t that good for getting a fish,” Woodard laughed. “They do work hard.”

In the fall and winter, once the terns move on to their other migratory destinations, this spot is still a great place for birding, Woodard said. You can expect to see ducks, loons and maybe a bald eagle if you’re lucky.

PELRECO BIRDING SPOT

The next stop initially seemed like a construction site, with a gravel road that sent dust flying everywhere. But an expansive salt marsh was tucked away behind the warehouses and trucks.

Before Woodard even set up her scope, she spotted a great egret, its neck a perfect “S.” It took off, tucking its neck closer to its body, its black legs trailing behind.

She peered through the scope. “I see something kind of rare that I haven’t seen in a year,” she said. A hybrid between a little blue heron and a snowy egret fluffing its feathers with its beak. It folded into itself, hiding behind the long grass.

In the silence, more birds chirped, and Woodard identified them as they did. A chickadee. A blue jay.

She has a process for birdwatching, a flowchart that helps her identify species. First, she looks for things that “don’t look normal.”

“In a sea of green, if I see a different color, I’m immediately intrigued,” she said.

Then, she considers the habitat. What birds can she expect to find in an area? Next, she pays attention to what the bird is doing. Is it diving? Swimming? Flapping? Gliding? Those will be tells for different species.

At the same time, she listens. What kind of call is it making? The salt marsh sparrow, for instance, sounds like “water hitting a hot stove,” Woodard said.

THE EASTERN TRAIL

The sun was fully in the sky by the time Woodard led the way to destination No. 3, the Eastern Trail, through the access point on Pine Point Road. The water cut through the marsh like creases on a palm.

Woodard slung her scope over her shoulder as she strolled down the gravel path. Binoculars hanging around her neck, she greeted every jogger and toddler who passed. She pointed to the pines and said that she often sees a bald eagle perching up there.

From the rusted bridge, she spotted a small group of herring gulls bobbing in the water. They have a red pecking spot on their bills, Woodard explained, so when a baby bird gets hungry for regurgitated food, it pecks on the spot to alert its parents that it’s mealtime.

Further down the trail, a group of egrets came into view. A mix of snowy egrets and great egrets sat in a small pocket of water amidst the grasses. They hang out together, she said, because they eat the same things.

Walking back to the parking lot, Woodard pointed out a cormorant, a black bird with a curved beak, perched on a sign, drying its wings in the sun. These birds don’t produce their own oil, so if they don’t dry off, they get too heavy to fly. They flap, not glide.

A great egret flew overhead.

“It doesn’t matter how many times I see one,” Woodard said. “I still love it.”