Attractions, not Distractions

Stand Up for Science Rally in Washington D.C.

I am a caring person and I take my personal responsibilities as a citizen (locally, nationally, globally) very seriously. I try to stay involved and informed. I vote in every election and I follow the news. But since the new administration took over this January, it has been pretty overwhelming. The cruelty, waste and wanton destruction in this administration is hard to fathom. They have done amazing amounts of damage in a very short time. Things I once took for granted--the constitution, our relationship with the rest of the world, our social safety net, citizenship and immigration, vaccines, veteran's care, scientific research, universities, national parks, history, language (to name just some)--are being destroyed before my eyes.  It feels like we are descending into a dystopian science fiction novel. It makes me feel sad and hopeless for the future, and some days I want to just turn off the news, curl up in a ball, and ignore it all. But I can't do that forever. So I pay attention. I write and call my representatives. I donate to causes I believe in. Last month I traveled to Washington D.C. with my husband to attend the Stand Up For Science rally. I plan to attend more rallies. But I still feel pretty overwhelmed. It makes my heart hurt. 

Lichen on a twig

So what's a person to do? How do you keep going with this constant onslaught of chaos and destruction? How do you re-charge? I've tried some of the distractions that we turned to during the this president's last administration, and the scary months of COVID shutdown. I've tried comfort eating, but then my clothes don't fit. Drinking away my sorrows works for a couple of hours, but then I wake up with a headache in the morning. Binge watching shows and movies helps me escape for a while, but when I turn off the TV and, nothing has changed.

Fading Hepatica flower next to green moss

I was thinking about a friend, Susan, who died many years ago. In her last days when I talked to her she told me that she was looking for Attractions, not Distractions. It took me a long time to appreciate what she meant by that, but I think I get it now, and I think that is what I need in this moment. I don't want to cover up or block out what is happening right now. I need to feel that. But I also need something that draws me and enriches and fills my hurting heart, something that can exist beyond this moment that I can tap into when I need it in the future. 

Ocean of Bloodroot leaves. The flowers must have been glorious a few weeks ago

One last Bloodroot blossom 

Nature does this for me. This weekend I walked in the Lake Herrick woods and after I was able to get my brain to turn off the inner commentary--about politics, litter, loud cars, drones over the lake, invasive plants--I started to connect again. I heard my own breath and the sound of my footsteps on the path. I heard birds song, saw wild flowers, noticed colors and shapes, smells and the greenness of spring. I spent 10 minutes or so watching a red-shouldered hawk that landed on a tree near the path. I think it was hunting for food for its mate that I heard calling from across the woods. It watched me as I slowly walked closer. It didn't fly away when I raised my camera. I walked on, and the hawk stayed put. The peace of that moment stays with me still. 

Red-shouldered Hawk encounter

Family. Friends. Pets. Music. Art. Service. Creativity. Love. These are all attractions that can give us strength for another day. And they build us up rather than covering up, or tearing down. Go find the Attractions. 

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. 

My Myth--"The Dancers"

For our 4th Journey in Place exploration with Janisse Ray, we were asked to write a myth about something we encountered in our place. Last week I came across this huge oak tree with three trunks. Somehow, in the years that I have been walking these trails, I had never noticed it before. I guess it was waiting for  the right time to reveal its story. Here's my myth--"The Dancers":

Long ago, when humans were very new and just learning, and the earth and its living things were already old, people still understood the language of nature. The people lived in harmony with the earth and its creatures. They shared food and warmth and knowledge. When the people were cold the weaver birds taught them to form fiber into clothing and baskets to hold their food. When the people were hungry the birds and other forest animals showed them where to find seeds and roots to eat. The wasps taught them to build clay pots to cook and carry water. The ants taught them to farm so they could grow their own food. Humans and the other living things shared news of coming storms and dry seasons, when to expect the fruits and migrations and the changing tides. And every month under the light of the full moon, they danced together, sharing their gratitude and friendship. 

Over the years, as they learned more, the humans became enamored with their own skills and tools, and in time they forgot how to listen to the earth. No longer could they hear the signs of the changing seasons and weather. The people became separate from the other living things. They thought they no longer needed to share with the earth and they built vast cities where they once danced together in the moonlight. All that is, but three women, who chose to keep to the old ways. They lived lightly on the earth, and joined the forest creatures to dance on a hilltop every month, loving and thanking their earthly companions. And when the women finally became too old to dance any longer, they grew roots from the soles of their feet and their arms reached for the stars and the moon and they became three trunks of a tall oak tree, growing leaves and acorns to shelter and feed the forest, and dancing together through time. 

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.

We All Need a Little Green

Path Through the Woods

In my mind, one of the most important gauges of the livability of a community is whether or not there are greenspaces within easy walking or biking distance. Greenspaces are open patches of undeveloped land within an urban area, with trees and/or grass and minimal structures, and are generally open to the public. Parks, playgrounds, botanical gardens and nature parks come to mind. It takes some vision to create and maintain greenspaces. They are often on land that could be developed into something that could make lots of money, like a subdivision or an apartment building or a strip mall or a parking garage. Imagine how valuable the land in Central Park could be, located right in the middle of Manhattan. But, luckily, there are people out there who have understood the importance of having communal space available for connecting with nature. They understand the need for people to breathe fresh air, to walk in the beauty of trees, flowers and bugs, the need for children to run and play outside, for people to exercise and walk their dogs, to ride bikes, to watch birds, and to take nature photographs. Countless studies tell us that being in nature is good for us. Spending time in nature calms our jangled nerves, lets us keep healthy through exercise, and even helps our children concentrate better in the classroom. Imagine New York City without all its city parks, small and large, where people can go to escape from small apartments and crowded streets and subways. Without them people would go nuts. It's the same in every city. In addition to everything else, trees and plants in greenspaces clean our air, and the natural areas themselves provide critical habitat for urban wildlife. It is really important to me that nature is accessible to other people in my community, too. And this is one reason that I am involved on the board of Sandy Creek Nature Center where I also volunteer as a trail guide.

Cedar Waxwing 

But this is not about Sandy Creek. I consider myself very lucky to live in a lovely, livable community with greenspaces all around. I live a short walk from another pretty great greenspace--Oconee Forest Park and Lake Herrick on the UGA campus. Oconee Forest Park is a 60 acre wooded area that is managed by the school of forestry. It serves as a teaching area for foresters, biologists, ecologists and other natural scientists, but is also open to the public as a recreation area with trails for walkers, bikers, dog owners and nature lovers. Located next to Lake Herrick, there are benches, picnic tables, docks, outdoor exercise equipment and even a ropes course for teambuilding, as well as a beautiful ADA compliant boardwalk. It's a great place to be in and observe nature. I have seen deer, squirrels, snakes, turtles and beaver. And it is full of birds! The forest and lake area are birding hotspots. On a recent walk I counted 26 species without trying very hard. A sunny, cleared utility easement under the power lines is a superb place to find butterflies and other insects in the summer and fall. There are even labels on some of the trees to help people like me learn about Piedmont dendrology. All in all it's a pretty great place.

Turtles

Crow

Power Easement

Lake Herrick at the Bottom of the Hill

Lots of Recreation and Healthy Activities

Helping Me to Learn My Trees!

ADA Boardwalk Bridge Across the Lake

Forestry Students

Unfortunately, the park and lake suffer somewhat from misuse and neglect. There is a lot of litter from careless hikers or just blown in from the road. And like many other natural areas around town, sections of the woods are overgrown with exotic plants like English Ivy and Privet. The lake itself has been closed for swimming and boating since 2004 because of poor water quality due to factors such as storm runoff and bacteria from dog feces. The park is a very popular place to walk dogs, but it has been difficult to convince owners to clean up after their pets. (I think it would help to have more garbage cans and poop bag dispensers, but that may already be in the works.) Another problem is erosion caused by unofficial bike and running paths. Renegade paths may give a fun and fast ride down a steep hill, but it also gives a quick channel for storm runoff. Properly designed paths minimize erosion. But the University is acting to address the problems, with mitigation projects starting as soon as this spring, which is great news. It will be nice when the lake can be used for recreation again. I read that a small lake on the far side of the property that has become filled with silt from runoff may be developed as an improved wetland and I find this very exciting. I've had great experiences viewing nature in manmade wetlands around the country and have become a big fan.

Small Lake that Could Be Turned into a Wetland

Creek Runs Through the Forest to the Lake

Entrance to the Forest

Our family gets a lot of pleasure from using this resource. My husband likes to run through Oconee Forest Park, and we sometimes bring our dogs there. I love living close enough to just walk over to the park when I feel like birdwatching or taking photos. Some times, like weekends and evenings, the place is packed. But during the day it can be fairly quiet. I can easily spend hours there, wandering the meandering trails. Every visit I notice something new. This past time I found a big beaver lodge. Last visit, I heard and saw an unseasonably early White Eyed Vireo. Most times I see interesting fungi, plants or wildflowers. One day I hope I can roll a log or lift a rock and find a salamander. (I still haven't found one in the wild yet.) And as I get to know the park better, I get lost a lot less often. Or maybe I worry less about it. Being on campus, it is fairly well used and safe. And since it is in northern Georgia, I don't have to be afraid of being trapped on a trail by an alligator or a cottonmouth, as happened to me sometimes in Florida.

Beaver Lodge in the Water (Middle Right)

Eastern Phoebe

Texture on a Rotting Log

This unusual Deer Sculpture is the only deer I have actually seen here in the park, although I have seen tracks.

I guess the point here is to encourage everyone to seek out your own local greenspaces. Spend time outdoors and commune with the trees and the rocks and the bugs. Even in winter, go enjoy the snow and the muffled silences. Even in the sweltering heat of summer, go listen to the cicadas while you lie on the grass, watching the clouds roll by. Get out often enough to see the changing seasons. Learn those places as well as you know the plots of your favorite TV shows and you will not have wasted your time. Share them with children. We all need a little green.

Great Blue Heron Enjoys the Small Pond