Quest Completed - The Final Four

How can a dream be realized?  If a dream is seen as a perfectly created material state, it is inevitably doomed to failure.  Only when it is a striving toward an attainable goal can it be achieved.

 Reflections from North Country by Sigurd F. Olson

L Y N X,  O H I O

# 97 – Entomologic

Emma Lucy Braun has turned me into an entomologist. 

A century ago, Emma became fascinated with an area in southern Ohio where the Appalachians meet the plains of the Midwest.  It’s an overlap of biological diversity, and Emma, who received a PhD in botany and geology from the University of Cincinnati, found this area to be a research haven.  Of special interest were the small prairies in the foothills where wildflowers, butterflies, and other insects flourished.  In her later years, she was instrumental in preserving a particular prairie in Lynx, Ohio.  The Lynx Prairie became the genesis for what has now morphed into the 20,000-acre The Edge of Appalachia Preserve owned by The Nature Conservancy (TNC). 

For me, The Edge represents the other side.  I’ve lived my whole life on the east side of the Appalachians where they meet coastal environments, but visiting The Edge has brought me to the western side where they meet the Great Plains. 

Though TNC’s 20,000 acres includes varying landscapes, I deliberately chose to visit Lynx Prairie in honor of Emma.  I recently wrote an article about her for the Shenandoah Saw-whet, a publication from the Shenandoah Chapter of Virginia Master Naturalists.  Walking where she walked a century ago seems most appropriate.

But frankly, walking is a challenge.  Though the trail is just over a mile, it takes several hours to complete.  Curiosity slows the pace.  Upon entering the first prairie, I spot a hummingbird, but after studying its flight, I realize it’s a dragonfly.  A big one.   

Shortly thereafter, I start noticing other insects, including a jumping spider, pearly-eyed moths, robber flies, and spangled butterfly.  This prairie is thriving, and I realize something Emma must have learned early on… when in a prairie, just be still and let the action come to you.    

Standing still for a long time in a prairie searching for bugs… yup, Emma has made an entomologist out of me. 

 

B U R L I N G T O N,  K E N T U C K Y

# 98 – Lingering

Boone County is the northernmost part of Kentucky.  It’s also in the famous Bluegrass Region which conjures up images of fiddles, bourbon, folk art, horse farms, and UK signs everywhere. 

This region is also the only area of the state once covered by the ice age.  When the ice retreated, it left behind rich soil.  From within that rich soil, an old growth forest sprung and still exists today. 

Dinsmore Woods State Nature Preserve’s protective start began in 1985 when 107 acres were donated to TNC, who then transferred it to the state of Kentucky.  Two miles of trails loop through the property affording an intimate experience with startlingly large trees whose roots cling to ice age soils.

Essentially, Dinsmore will be the last property in my TNC quest that includes wildness.  (The final two are in urban settings.)  Realizing this, melancholy accompanies me as I loop through Dinsmore’s titans. 

At most properties, I find a place to linger.  An outcrop.  Water’s edge.  Or a simple resting spot.  It forces me to pause and take in the spirit of a place.  Today I linger at Dinsmore’s highest elevation where I sit upon a downed tree.  It’s an ideal place to relax, ruminate, and let the action come to me.  I linger especially long here at Dinsmore knowing it’s my last chance. 

Through the years, these lingers have taught important things:

Patience. 

To stop always wondering what’s up around the next bend. 

Value of Silence

After my intrusion ripples settle, natural silence moves in.

 Appreciation for TNC

Connecting more deeply with organizations dedicated to protecting unique habitats.

Dinsmore has once again reinforced the value of the linger.

 

Why Cincinnati?

With only the final four to go, why choose Cincinnati as a base from which to add two more?  My reply is this: it’s a testament to something learned as a journal keeper - every day has an essence.  And similarly, every place does as well. 

If you survey your destination thoughtfully you can find essence, such as the vibrancy of a nearby foothill prairie, or the peacefulness of an old growth forest.  A short, cheap flight to a seemingly non-iconic city has added two wonderful memories… and highlights the benefit of an open mind. 

 

W A S H I N G T O N,  D. C.

# 99 – Caring Graveyard

Five days after lingering deep in a quiet Kentucky old growth forest, my TNC quest has me driving through a graveyard in Washington, D.C. where natural silence is replaced by urban hum.  It’s a wonderful juxtaposition.  On this quest, the variety of TNC’s work has been vast.  From underwater reefs to dark caves, through primitive wilderness, and now amid urban hum.

Mount Olivet Cemetery is the largest Catholic burial ground in DC, and in 2015 it was facing pressure to better manage its stormwater runoff.  Around that same time, Pope Francis issued a conservation edict entitled Care for Our Common Home drawing focus to the challenges of pollution, over-consumption of resources, loss of biodiversity, and a decline in the quality of human life.  Out of that synergy, a partnership was born. 

TNC, Mount Olivet, and other partners came together to transform the cemetery into a conservation showpiece by installing rain gardens and pollinator plots and removing impervious surfaces.  These efforts greatly reduce stormwater runoff, which in turn, improves water quality of the nearby Anacostia River.  Additionally, since Mount Olivet adjoins the National Arboretum, the improved environment helps expand the urban forest between the two properties.

My late summer meander through Mount Olivet on a perfect day is a vibrant experience.  Goldenrod, Waterpeppers, and Queen Anne lace are abloom and attracting plentiful pollinators.  Evidence of TNC’s work is around every bend, including a work crew who’s installing yet another rain garden. 

Choosing to see Mount Olivet has once again confirmed that visiting TNC sites never disappoints.  A graveyard that inspires?

Whether honoring the dead or not, meandering this cemetery clearly shows the care for our common home that both the Pope and TNC exude.   

A R L I N G T O N,  V I R G I N I A

# 100 – Keystone Tile

A pair of worn-out Rocky hiking boots have been brought out of retirement today.  The haggard footwear has tramped with me many miles across some of the planet’s coolest places including my very first TNC property.  But they now live in a car trunk serving only as backup footwear.  I’m wearing them today though, to take a first step into the Arlington Native Plant Garden at The Nature Conservancy (TNC)’s headquarters in Virginia.  That first step will represent the last stop in my quest to visit one hundred TNC properties. 

My quest started unknowingly in March 2001 at West Virginia’s Ice Mountain.  I discovered this amazing landscape while searching places to lead photography field trips as president of the Shenandoah Photographic Society.  Turns out, a mountain that spews cold air year-round from vents at its base is a great place for photography field trips.  It made me wonder though, what else does TNC protect? 

One month later, I’m switch-backing up Wildcat Mountain in Marshall, Virginia.  Another gem – a biodiversity crossroads of coastal, piedmont, and mountaintop species.  I’d visit Wildcat many times through all seasons over the next two decades – first as a wide-eyed visitor, but later as a sanctioned trail maintainer for TNC.  Wildcat is a top candidate for sprinkling my ashes. 

 And so, in 2001, a fascination was born.  With over four hundred public preserves nationwide, and a seemingly endless list of involvement with other properties, visiting TNC’s work became an obsession. 

What soon became clear was that each property highlighted a unique ecological value… each property had an essence.  Research became a part of the visits.  Knowing why the property was being protected added richness to the experience.  Beauty is often found in the understanding of a place, and the research before, and distillations after, unveiled even more of a property’s beauty.  

As my Rockys take a first step into the last of the hundred preserves, it’s with neither sadness nor elation but an extremely strong sense of satisfaction.  Of mission accomplished.    

And what exactly was that mission? 

It started as an antidote.  As a career office-dweller, scheduling TNC outdoor adventures every few months was a curative offset.  To leave controlled environments and sweat, be cold, get rained on, climb hills, fall down, get bitten, and occasionally bleed. 

But the mission was not just a physical antidote.  It was a mental one as well.  By research, I was building a medley of knowledge about a variety of vital environments.  Though I’ll never be done learning, today’s visit to a tiny, yet radiant, native plant garden is the keystone tile in a steady-built mosaic of beauty and wisdom.  

As this blog exhibits, the mission also included an attempt to inspire others to learn about TNC’s work, and more generally, understand how varied and vital the unique ecological environments of our world are. 

Finally (and selfishly) this accomplished mission now becomes a cherished trophy.  My wonderful wife and children are trophy number one, for sure.  And a wonderful 36-year (and counting) career is up there too.  Adding a TNC trophy though, makes the view of my mantle even more fulfilling.

Though that first bootstep signified completion of the mission, what made today’s visit so special was the accompanying TNC staff.  Rockstar Deborah Barber (Maryland/DC Director of Land Conservation) led my wife and I through the garden stopping every few steps to share her amazement when spotting galls, leaf miners, birds, insects, and every colorful flower that caught her attention.  It was a cavalcade of precise information presented with an extraordinary manner of enthusiasm. 

Deborah was one of so many TNC staff that supported me along this journey.  Listing all the names would break the internet.  Of special note though is Jen Dalke.  When I first signed up to volunteer for TNC, Jen was my coordinator and still is today.  Throughout my quest, she’s been a guide star pointing me in the right direction when arranging visits. 

With one hundred done, the question becomes ‘what’s next?’  For now, there’s no clear answer, but a few things are certain.  I’ll forever be recounting the knowledge gained, reflecting on the best moments, sharing stories with others, and waiting for inspiration to guide me to what’s next. 

Isn’t that just like anything else in life?