Journey in Place: Healing

Lake Herrick Memorial

It's been almost 2 weeks since Laken Riley, a young nursing student, was murdered in the woods a few blocks from my home in Athens, GA. After a little more than 24 hours of uncertainty and fear for public safety, the police announced that they had arrested a suspect and that there was no longer an immediate threat. It appears that the crime was a terrible, random act. Laken was a runner and was out on the trails in the woods where she often ran. She told a friend where she would be, and then she didn't come home when expected. It was just a random and needless tragedy. Grieving UGA students held a vigil early last week for her and for another student who had taken his life the day before. The community is still in pain. The crime has become an issue much bigger than Athens because it is believed that the suspect is an undocumented foreigner. In these highly charged times, immigration is a white hot topic and politicians have seized on it. I don't want to go much further into that here, but I have to say that it has been very distressing to see our local tragedy playing out in the national, and even international news over and over again and I find it to be opportunistic and exploitative. 

Bloodroot Meadow

When I wrote my last blog entry I was in shock. I was in mourning for the death of a joyful young woman, for her family and friends, and for our community's loss of its sense of safety. How could this happen in a place that I and just about everyone I knew considered to be safe space and a refuge? And how could such an awful thing happen in a park I had come to love, right in the spot I had been writing about for weeks in an exercise about exploring place? I wasn't sure at that time that I would ever be able to go back. I didn't know if I would be or feel safe, or how it would feel to be there knowing that a young woman's future had been violently snuffed out, right there. 

Round Leaf Hepatica

A number of friends who read my post commented, wisely, that the danger is always there, especially for women, but that we can't let this stop us from living and enjoying our lives. And I know this is true. Deep down I knew I would I would eventually get back to Lake Herrick and continue to hike and explore as I have done in the past. But this really shook everyone up, especially before a suspect had been charged with the crime. Several kind people offered to accompany anyone who felt unsafe on runs or bird walks, walking to the parking lots, etc. The University and the City of Athens are taking measures to improve safety, and I'm sure it will make some difference. Now, 2 weeks later, I am pretty sure I will feel ok walking alone, but I will take more precautions. My husband wants me to carry a whistle, and I won't go out owling at night or do early morning birding without someone with me. There are some remote places that in the past I have explored on my own. I will bring a buddy with me now. Not because things suddenly became unsafe, but because this murder reminds us of the ever present danger. The police may have arrested this particular man, but as long as there are other violent or desperate or mentally ill people out there to seize on an opportunity, they will do it. It sucks but it's reality. 

Trail Through the Flowers

Several readers commented about this "wounded place", a term I feel is especially appropriate for Lake Herrick. That's what this is to me now--a place that has absorbed trauma and sadness. It will take a long time to overcome that wounding. I was able to go back and walk the trails in the woods this week, first with my husband and later with a friend. Though the trails had re-opened days before, we were hesitant to go there too soon out of respect for the young woman's family and friends who were still in deep mourning. When we did go, the whole place was unusually quiet. We went during the first weekend of spring break and there were very few people around. It was peaceful and reverential. We felt a little apprehensive walking the trail so near where we think the violence occurred, in case we encountered some bit of police tape or tracks or some other evidence of what had occurred there. But we did not see any of that, and soon our hesitancy was replaced with appreciation for the blooming wildflowers and birdsong and a beautiful blue sky. My husband and I walked and smiled and even took a selfie in the bloodroot meadow. When we walked, my friend and I chatted about life and watched a turtle tromp down the creek to a dead end. It felt almost normal. But if I let my mind stray away from the nature and beauty, I immediately remembered where I was and what had happened there and it made me sad again. Nature is a wonderful healer, but it will take time. We won't forget but our community will heal. 

Bloodroot Blossom

SunningTurtles