83: Meaningful Perch
F I S H E R S, I N
Most industries have trade associations and the industry I work in is no exception. The National Association of Mutual Insurance Companies (NAMIC) provides advocacy and education to its members. For the past eight years, I’ve been very fortunate to sit on their board of directors - a truly magical professional opportunity.
My NAMIC obligations are mostly fulfilled through in-person meetings in locations all over the US and Canada. From many of these travel opportunities, I’ve added vacation days springing off onto personal adventures chasing down nearby Nature Conservancy (TNC) properties to add to the collection. In fact, of the 82 I’ve visited so far, 17 have been related to trade association travels.
Thanks to NAMIC,
I’ve stood upon the sandy Loess Hills of Iowa,
hiked deep into Ramsey Canyon in Arizona,
walked to the middle of a tallgrass prairie in Kansas,
tramped through a savanna in Minnesota,
and sat in utter silence amid longleaf pines on Florida’s highest ridge.
My last-visited preserve – Pogue Creek Canyon – also sprung from a NAMIC event in Nashville. As is the property I’m visiting today. Ritchey Woods Nature Preserve is just ten miles from NAMIC’s headquarters in Indianapolis. In homage to NAMIC’s contribution to my quest to visit 100 TNC properties, it seems appropriate to visit the one property closest to their office.
Ritchey Woods is a mere 127-acres willed by James Ritchey to The Nature Conservancy in 1981. It’s a typical mid-western, north-south oriented square of land. To the east, directly across the street, is an industrial park. South and west is Indy’s local airport, and to the north, a suburban housing development. Ritchey Woods is truly an oasis ideally suited to bring awareness to the neighboring many whether they’re looking for it or not - its entrance sign fronts a busy commuter route.
How does a small 127-acre preserve in the middle of Indy’s suburbs compare with a glorious canyon in Arizona, or the stunning isolation of a longleaf pine forest in Florida? Is such a modest, hemmed-in square worthy of inclusion in an exclusive list of one hundred? The answer is found in a simple travel mantra: every place has an essence.
“I wish so to live ever as to derive my satisfactions and inspirations from the commonest events, every-day phenomena, so that what my senses hourly perceive, my daily walk, the conversation of my neighbors, may inspire me, and I may dream of no heaven but that which lies about me.”
Henry David Thoreau from On Man and Nature
Unfailingly, every TNC preserve visited has left an indelible stamp – a strong memory unique among all others. Whether in a grand canyon or a modest suburban park, it’s simple: follow your instincts with an open mind and you’ll garner a collectible gem. Understanding the nature of where you’re going and moving about thoughtfully make for a holistic experience which unfailingly extracts essence.
On this mid-December day, the landscape is naked - its curves and contours undulate exposed. The heavy cold air holds all in place. Two red-shouldered hawks are perched across a field. Neither fly off as I encroach. But when they finally do, it’s not far. Perhaps because outside of this property there is nowhere else for them to perch as meaningfully. This preserve preserves their habitat.
A little further on, three white tail deer saunter across the trail. They too don’t bother to scamper off. We stop and stare for a time, fifteen yards apart. They also realize the value of staying within their 127-acre sheltered habitat. There’s nowhere else meaningful to run.
Though small in size, Ritchey Woods’ biodiversity is big, presented by a variety of habitats – dense woods, open fields, and vibrant wetlands. Cheeney Creek meanders through maple, oak, green ash, and Ohio buckeye. In the wetlands, skunk cabbage and wild bergamot can be found. And the open fields provide hunting ground for the hawks.
The trail leads to a unique experience – the essence of this place, perhaps. A 100-yard boardwalk wending atop the wetlands which are frozen today. The muted hues of cold December reflecting artistically off the ice paint a rare visual. Like a kaleidoscope, the colors shift with each step taken. What a unique gem to put in the pocket.
Being suburban, an overarching drone at Ritchey cannot be unheard – distant machinery, airplanes, cars, voices all blend into a homogenous white noise. 127 acres isn’t nearly big enough to buffer the sounds of humanity. But Ritchey is a notable haven, nonetheless.
Listening past the drone, you’ll hear a wren song, hawk screech, scampering squirrel, or the trickle of Cheeney Creek. Perhaps wind rustled leaves, the tap-tap of a red-bellied woodpecker, or the snort of a white-tail. If listened to smartly enough, these sounds might blend into their own homogenous noise. A holistic aural essence capable of drowning out the drone beyond this property’s border which the hawk and deer know better than to cross.
Over the past eight years of NAMIC service there have been multiple trips to Indy. Ritchey has beckoned every time. Today, I finally answered that call. And as expected, extracted some of its essence, and tucked away another indelible stamp.
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