Fall-ing in Love Again

American Lady with Blue Mistflowers and Rudbeckia

I am so happy that Fall is here. I'm not talking about pumpkin spice or sweater weather. I love fall because this is when the wildflowers are at their peak and the butterflies arrive in force. The bees and wasps will have been busy all summer, but the butterflies like to wait until the flowers are at their tastiest and most beautiful. It's my favorite time to lead kids on hikes at the Nature Center. We see so much! Spiders, caterpillars, butterflies, stick bugs, mantises. Fall is full of life. I learned to love fall wildflowers when we lived in Florida and I worked at Morningside Nature Center. I got to know the flowers of the Longleaf Pine Sandhill there, which is one of the most beautiful things ever. Click here to read my blog about it: https://earthteachme.blogspot.com/2013/09/morningside.html I started my flower garden at home to attract butterflies when I saw how they loved the wildflowers in the sandhill. The flower show in our garden starts small in the spring with welcome but small sprouts of green and flashes of yellow and pink. But by fall it is a mad burst of purple and gold, tall stems tumbling over each other. I could barely walk the path through the middle of the garden today because it had grown so thick. But the result is a moving carpet of rainbow colors, buzzing, fluttering, and chirping. The birds, rabbits, squirrels and deer love it too. 

Katydid

Fall is the time that I get to step back and just admire and enjoy the fruits of my labors. It's my reward for the sweaty work planting, watering and weeding that I do in the spring and summer, though admittedly, nature does most of the work. It's a joy to just step out the front door and be surrounded by such beauty. I take far too many pictures. It makes me happy to see other people pass by the yard and stop for a picture of their own. A runner yesterday waved and said "¡Que Rico!" and blew kisses to the flowers. It makes me feel good to provide a nature sanctuary on a busy corner where campus buses drive by every few minutes and commuters line up at the beginning and end of their day. I love this garden.

On the Bus Route--Goldenrod and Asters Abound

American Lady, Blue Mistflower, and the Commuters

Fall is also hurricane season. It's been a wild week. On Thursday we watched the destruction in Florida as hurricane Helene grew to a category 4 storm.We anxiously waited for it to roar over the top of Athens during the night. I took pictures of the garden on Thursday, fully expecting that it would all be smashed flat by the storm the next day. But Friday morning we woke to light rain and some wind gusts and found that we had come through mercifully unscathed. The storm had taken a more easterly path. But then we saw the terrible damage as it tore through up the eastern half of the state and up to the Carolinas, Tennessee and Kentucky. There was some damage in our town, but nothing like what happened all around us. We feel very lucky--the devastation and loss is shocking. Some of those communities will never be the same again. Our garden was untouched.

The Day Before the Storm 

Then on Sunday we started getting reports of a toxic chemical fire in Conyers, about 40 miles to the west, and to be prepared to stay inside with windows closed if the chemical cloud started to drift our way. Luckily the fire seems to be under control and the cloud has not made it here yet, though it looks like the toxicity would be diluted by the wind by the time it got here if it did. But 17,000 people were told to evacuate, many to Athens. Crazy. What's next? An asteroid? Volcano?

Not smelling any chlorine because the toxic cloud was far away, I took a walk around Lake Herrick, where I used to walk all the time and in January had started writing about for an exercise in exploring place. I've been avoiding going there--it just makes me sad since the nursing student was murdered there in February (see previous blogs). I hadn't been there since June. I decided to go see if I could find any of the birds that had been reported after the hurricane (I didn't). It was nice to walk the trails again, but it still felt sad. This summer the university installed numerous emergency call boxes throughout the woods as a safety measure. I understand why they put them in, but for me, seeing the bright red light in the woods just reminds me that it is a sad place. I'm just not sure I can write about my connection to the place any more. I get distracted by the misery. So I am letting that "Journey in Place" project go. I'll certainly go back to Lake Herrick over and over again. But reflecting on my feelings there is too sad, and I feel like having the project hanging over me has been a burden that kept me from being able to write at all. I've been stuck. But walking home from Lake Herrick, I saw my garden up ahead in the distance, all full of movement and life, and I felt relief, and the urge to write about it. Just the nudge I needed. Thank you, garden, for giving me joy, beauty, and peace.

Pearl Crescent on Rudbeckia

Cabbage White on Blue Mistflower

Yellow Collared Scape Moth on Blue Mistflower

Fiery Skipper on Blue Mistflower

Buckeye on Blue Mistflower

American Snout on Blue Mistflower

Ocola Skipper on Blue Mistflower

Swamp Sunflower

Leafcutter Bee on Blue Mistflower

Ailanthus Webworm Moth on Blue Mistflower

Georgia Aster

First Monarch of Fall

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

Journey in Place: When Your Place Stops Feeling Safe

Hawk perched deep in the woods

My little city of Athens, Georgia is in a state of shock and mourning today. Yesterday afternoon a young woman was found dead in the woods behind Lake Herrick—my “place”. The story has been reported statewide and even appeared in the New York Times. The death is being considered suspicious, but few details have been released. At this point the police have not identified a suspect. I don’t know for certain, but from the aerial photos I’ve seen on the news, it appears that she died very near the trail that I have been claiming as my own for this year of exploring place— “Tranquility Trail”. My heart aches for the young woman and her family and friends. Together we mourn for this person whose young life was senselessly cut short. And the community mourns our loss of innocence. We have lost our sense of safety in nature. What before was considered a quiet place to exercise, walk your dog, bird watch, explore nature, and gain peace of mind has changed in  character forever because now it is the scene of a terrible act of violence. The area is currently closed to the public while the police continue to investigate. Lake Herrick will open again, and I will go back, but I doubt that I will go there alone for a long time, if ever. And even if they catch the person who did this, my confidence has been shattered. Maybe the space never really was safe. Maybe it was always an assault waiting to happen. But for years, I, and others, walked the trails with no fear. All during the pandemic I walked alone, almost every day. For years I have woken up early to count birds by myself in the quiet morning hours for the Christmas Bird Count. I have visited at dusk to watch fireflies and search for owls. Just last week I followed a hawk off of a main trail and into the woods, and watched it sit on a branch for half an hour or more, far away from any other people. I love those times of silence, contemplation and freedom. I won’t be doing that any more. From now on there will always be that voice telling me to be suspicious and not to dare to venture too far into the quiet trees, and that I should not be alone. Now I will not have the freedom to enjoy the solitude. Now I am angry at what this violent act has stolen from this young woman and from us all. As I listen to the constant drone of helicopters circling as they wait for breaking news I feel a tremendous sense of sadness and weariness. I feel like I have lost my place because I’m not sure I can experience it the same way ever again. I am in mourning. 

Journey in Place: Frame of Reference

Map at the Park Entrance

As I sit at my desk writing I am a bit distracted by the large flocks of Cedar Waxwings and American Robins that have descended on my yard this cold January morning. They are dropping from their sunny perches in the trees down to our small pond that has abundant flowing water, a scarcity today when the temperatures are barely warming up from the teens of last night. They are also feeding ravenously on the berries of the Chinese Holly and Japanese Privet that line my yard. Like them or not, the large and established (albeit exotic) bushes do provide food and shelter for hungry birds.

In our 2nd Journey In Place exercise, Janisse asked us to put our Place in spatial perspective, identifying the location, bioregion and boundaries, and then decide to whom the study should be dedicated. Then came the toughest part, for me at least--we were asked to sketch a map of our Place. After walking the trails and doing some research, I came up what I think represents the way I view my Place. I wish I had the patience to carefully sketch and print beautiful letters, but that just doesn't seem to be me. I get impatient. Here is my map:

My Map

So, about my place. My place is the Oconee Forest Park, a natural area on the University of Georgia Campus. It is located within the bioregion of the Southern Outer Piedmont of Northeast Georgia and is in the Upper Oconee River Watershed. The park consists of 60 acres of hundred-year-old trees on rolling hills that edge a 15-acre manmade lake. It is bordered by an unused railroad track, tennis courts and band practice fields on the west side, a highway ("The Loop) on the south and east, and College Station Road and the Intramural Fields to the North. It contains two manmade lakes, one large one (Lake Herrick) and a much smaller one (Little Lake Herrick). Lake Herrick is fed by a small stream that catches runoff from the 5 Points neighborhood on the north side, where I live. Water from Little Lake Herrick up above, supplies water to Herrick Creek that runs through a ravine and down into the larger lake below, where Herrick Creek picks up again and flows into the North Oconee River to the northeast. 

Boardwalk on hill leads to Bridge across the lake

Big, beautiful oak on the Lake Trail, by exercise equipment

Intramural Field on a frosty morning

One of the platforms the looks over the lake

Mountain Bike Trail and Power Line Cut

Herrick Creek

Hiking and mountain bike trails wind around the lakes, and through and around the forest. Service roads serve as wider trails and allow access for maintenance equipment. Facilities on site include fishing docks, a boat ramp, picnic areas, and a ropes course. A wooden boardwalk next to ball courts leads to a bridge across a narrow arm of the lake. The area serves as an outdoor classroom for forestry, biology and ecology students, and is popular with runners, walkers, bikers, dog walkers, photographers, artists, and nature lovers, both students and the general community. Oconee forest Park is an ebird hotspot. 

Kingfisher on one of the platforms in the lake

Killdeer Chick in an Intramural Field

Stinkhorn Fungi

Fox

Heron in the Lake on a Misty Morning

Snake Tree

Tree Frogs by Little Lake Herrick

Bloodroot Patch

While preparing to draw my map I looked at existing maps of the area online and discovered that some of the unmarked trails actually have names! I learned that my "comfort spot" is located on "Tranquility trail", which makes perfect sense because it exudes peace and calm. "Tranquility Trail" follows the contour of the hillside and over a ridge to the "Birdsong Loop", another favorite and aptly named trail. On a map, I think the Oconee Forest Park looks kind of like a heart. I like the image of it providing lifeblood to the community through physical and mental health, protected habitat, and its place in the watershed, channeling water to the Upper Oconee River. I picked it as my Place because of its proximity to home, and because it was a lifesaver for me during the Covid pandemic when everything else was closed and I needed a place to breathe and think. It has provide me with endless hours of peaceful contemplation birdsong, and discovery. I would like to dedicate my Journey In Place to the people who had the foresight to create this oasis (one of whom was my friend, Walt Cook--more on him and his role another time), the people who are working currently to maintain and improve it, and to my fellow travelers who share it with me.

Happy Birthday to my Hiking Friend

My friend and hiking buddy Walt turned 90 this weekend, and on the occasion of his birthday, a whole lot of his friends got together and threw him a party to celebrate him and recognize his astonishing contribution to the community as an educator, a conservationist, an environmentalist and a master trail builder. The Mayor came and read a proclamation and gave him a key to the city. And representatives of organizations that he founded or worked with spoke in his honor. After we sang Happy Birthday, we unfurled a banner listing all the trails he had created or worked on, and that banner stretched around an entire picnic pavilion. He has created an amazing legacy. Many people brought gifts--notes and keepsake photos. My gift to him was a book of photos of our adventures together, and I thought I'd share the text and some of the photos.

I'm happy to call Walt Cook my friend. We became friends in a rather unusual way--I bid on him at a Silent Auction! I should probably explain. Walt offered a guided hike as an item for the Silent Auction for the Sandy Creek Nature Center Annual Meeting in the fall of 2016. My husband and I were new to Athens, having just moved here the year before. I had gotten involved with the Nature Center and kept hearing about this fellow, Walt, who was one of the original founders of the Nature Center and seemed to know a lot about the local trails. I thought that this might be a good opportunity to meet him and to get to know a little about the trails around Athens. I bid on the hike, never expecting that I would get it. But as luck would have it, my bid won, and as they say, the rest is history!

I didn't collect on my hike until December. Walt arranged to meet us at Sandy Creek Park to guide us along the Oxbow Loop of Cook's Trail (named after him because he built it!). We made plans to hike the loop and then get some lunch together. Walt had scoped out a favorite Mexican restaurant nearby. When we arrived at the park, Walt seemed a bit disappointed that we didn't have any kids with us because he had scouted some items that he thought would be of special interest to kids. But I think he was pleased in the end because I LOVED all of it, including the Beaver Gnaw Stick that he had put aside as a keepsake for a lucky child. It was a freezing cold morning and we saw Frost Flowers and ice on the pond as we walked. Walt told us some of the history of building the trail, pointed out twists and turns and nice view that he liked, benches that sat in the right place and those that didn't, and a hillside of Christmas Ferns. I brought my camera and Walt had his, and we pointed out lovely moss and mushrooms to each other along the way.

Spider on a Frost Flower

We finished the hike and ate a tasty lunch together, and then Walt started making plans for the NEXT hike! I almost had to pinch myself--somehow, I had hit the lottery! This was not going to be just a one-time deal--I was being welcomed as one of Walt's hiking friends. And the two of us have been hiking together every few months ever since (with the exception of during the pandemic).

It took me a while to figure this out, but Walt carefully curated our walks together, picking locations where he had build or designed the trails, or both. Many of the places he took me to were Oconee River Land Trust properties, some not accessible to the general public. Whenever we walk together, I am amazed to see how many of my favorite hiking places he has had a hand in.

A hike with Walt usually involves discussion about the grade of the path, trees and rocks that caused challenges during building, and special features along the way, like a beautiful boulder, a unique tree, a waterfall, a bridge or a spectacular view. Walt has been educating me about trail aesthetics and maintenance and I can often pick out his handiwork when I hike on my own now--a dip and hump built into the trail for drainage or an elegant meander through a particularly pretty grove. We talk about our lives, music, history, work, the things we like to do. We exchange good books. I try to pick his brain about the history of Sandy Creek Nature Center, since he founded it and I am now president of the board. I tell him about my family, projects I'm working on and trips I've taken. Sometimes we're just quiet, enjoying the day. A couple of times I helped him work, flagging trails or recording information on his maps. I'll admit that I never volunteer to help dig or build trails--I don't have nearly as much energy as he has! Walt usually leads, since he knows the property, knocking stray sticks off the trail with his walking stick and sometimes trimming an overgrown branch that might hit a hiker in the face with the clippers he often has on his belt. We have gotten lost more than once, but we always made our way back (I make sure I have my phone with me just in case). Sometimes we eat our lunch on a nice log or rock, but usually a hike ends with a stop at a favorite restaurant (Walt has a list). He introduced me to the "meat and 3". 

I treasure our times together and look forward to more. Meanwhile, I have memories and photos of some of the hikes we've taken together. Thank you, Walt. Your friend, Katherine

CHARLIE ELLIOTT WILDLIFE CENTER

Charlie Elliott has an archery range with a giant tiger, a wolf and a T-Rex to shoot at

CAMP KIWANIS

SANDY CREEK PARK

BEECH HAVEN

Marking maps

BIRCHMORE TRAIL

"LOTSANOTTY"

"Lotsanotty" is a property that Walt donated to the Land Trust

Sweet Knot Fungus growing on a Beech Tree

ROCK AND SHOALS

Specialized plants that grow on Stone Outcrops

That summer there was a magnificent Coreopsis field blooming on the Outcrop

KETTLE CREEK REVOLUTIONARY BATTLEFIELD

BUILDING TRAILS AT A FRIEND'S PROPERTY

Flagging Trails

SANDY CREEK NATURE CENTER

I enjoy it when we walk at Sandy Creek Nature Center because Walt tells me a lot about the history of how it came to be. his memories help me feel a deeper connection now that I am president of the organization he helped found in 1973.

BEN BURTON PARK

This was one of the first places we visited when we first dared to get together in the pandemic.

WATKINSVILLE WOODS

Always curious, Walt wanted to get down at ground level to see the ground bees

Ground Bees

I'm very happy that I bid at the auction. Happy 90th Birthday, my friend!