What is another word for marshes?

Pronunciation: [mˈɑːʃɪz] (IPA)

Marshes are wetlands that are typically characterized by the growth of soft-stemmed vegetation. There are several synonyms that can be used to refer to marshes, including swamps, bogs, wetlands, fens, and moors. Swamps are typically characterized by the growth of trees and shrubs, while bogs are known for their unique mossy terrain. Wetlands encompass all types of areas that are typically wet or saturated with water, while fens are a type of wetland that receives water from underground sources. Lastly, moors are areas of wetland characterized by acidic soil and the presence of peat. Regardless of which synonym is used, marshes play a crucial role in the ecosystem by providing a home to a wide variety of plant and animal life.

What are the paraphrases for Marshes?

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What are the hypernyms for Marshes?

A hypernym is a word with a broad meaning that encompasses more specific words called hyponyms.

Usage examples for Marshes

The first summer months, when the rain ceases to fall and the water still covers the marshes, are the healthiest.
"In Desert and Wilderness"
Henryk Sienkiewicz
There are two rivers heading near the same point, in the marshes and the highest tableland of the Cascade Mountains.
"Memoirs of Orange Jacobs"
Orange Jacobs
Then we came to woods of all sorts of palms, mostly low growing on white sand, and here and there pools and marshes over which the palms stood and were reflected and threw sharp shadows across the blue reflection from the sky.
"From Edinburgh to India & Burmah"
William G. Burn Murdoch

Famous quotes with Marshes

  • To build a road is so much simpler than to think of what the country really needs. A roadless marsh is seemingly as worthless to the alphabetical conservationist as an undrained one was to the empire-builders. Solitude, the one natural resource still undowered of alphabets, is so far recognized as valuable only by ornithologists and cranes. Thus always does history, whether of marsh or market place, end in paradox. The ultimate value in these marshes is wildness, and the crane is wildness incarnate. But all conservation of wildness is self-defeating, for to cherish we must see and fondle, and when enough have seen and fondled, there is no wilderness left to cherish.
    Aldo Leopold
  • Tired with dull grief, grown old before my day, I sit in solitude and only hear Long silent laughters, murmurings of dismay, The lost intensities of hope and fear; In those old marshes yet the rifles lie, On the thin breastwork flutter the grey rags, The very books I read are there—and I Dead as the men I loved, wait while life drags.
    Edmund Charles Blunden
  • During the entire period of my banishment and trial, I wanted to tell Piedmont and Bennington that what was happening between us was not confined to Beaufort, South Carolina. I wanted to tell them about the river that was rising quickly, flooding the marshes and threatening the dry land. I wanted them to know that their day was ending. When I saw them at the trial, I knew that they were the soldiers of the rear guard, captains of a doomed army retreating through the snow and praying that the quick, dark wolves, waiting in the cold, would come no closer. They were old men and could not accept the new sun rising out of the strange waters. The world was very different now.
    Pat Conroy
  • Here is what The Boo loved more than The Citadel - nothing, nothing on this Earth. The sun rose on Lesesne Gate and it set on the marshes of the Ashley River and its main job was to keep the parade grounds green. He once told me that a cadet was nothing but a bum, like you, Conroy. But a Corps of Cadets was the most beautiful thing in the world. In World War II, he led an artillery unit during the Battle of the Bulge and he once told me, 'The Germans hated to see me and my boys catch em in the open.' It is my own personal belief that The Boo's own voice was more frightening to the Germans than the artillery fire he was directing toward them.
    Pat Conroy
  • Virginal shy lights, Wrought of the leaves to allure to the whisper of vows, When lovers pace timidly down through the green colonnades Of the dim sweet woods, of the dear dark woods, Of the heavenly woods and glades, That run to the radiant marginal sand-beach within The wide sea-marshes of Glynn.
    Sidney Lanier

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