We stood holding hands, looking up toward the oak savannah hillside to see a large herd of elk running down along the ridge through the trees. A quick wind swept across the valley bringing a downpour of rain and we cried in excitement and laughed while the wild iris and buttercups danced with the grass. I turned to my son, kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t forget this moment, baby. This is life.”
GLT Naturalists, Hannah King, and her son, Kai, offer trail interpretation and smiles at Bald Hill Farm.
We still talk about that moment, three years ago, a moment that could not be captured by camera, minutes so present and fleeting, yet permanently impressed upon our hearts. He was two years old at the time, and I bring him back to this place of nature, time and time again throughout the seasons, reminding him of our connection to the land.
I was raised in prairie grass, under a black oak and a half moon of pine forest. Even as a child, or should I say more so, I knew that land was home, we were family, that my feet belonged on the weeds and my bed would be a hand pressed circle within the daisies in late afternoon. Hours long and un-clocked, no photographs, only living memory and decades later it speaks to me of who I am and where I came from and where I belong. I could never articulate this bond until later in my life; it was unspoken and shared by few. My father loved the wilderness, the silence and solitude of a mountaintop, I always knew this about him, whether we talked of it, a man of few words, but when his feet hit the trail he was different—lighter, and he would summit the high places, outwardly and inward.
Purple larkspur (Delphinium menziesii) growing along the Mulkey Ridge Trail.
Last year, when I first joined Greenbelt Land Trust as a volunteer naturalist, I questioned my qualifications. I didn’t know how to distinguish birdcalls or identify the majority of native plant species. I knew little about the geology of the valley, and I knew just as little about conservation. Yet, a quiet voice within my mind asked, What is it that you have to offer? And the confidence grew in knowing that I possessed a deep appreciation for the natural spaces around this county, that this town has become my home because of it’s preserves, bird sanctuaries and trail systems. It invited me into its rich green arms and has nurtured me into growth. I am so loved here.
Kai gets a better view of Bald Hill Farm atop his mom’s shoulders!
Mary Reynolds, an Irish landscaper now author and activist for the preservation of wild spaces, states in her TEDx talk at Wexford,“We have to become guardians of this earth again, not gardeners.” How do we make the transition from creator to caretaker? How do we become protector, a trustee in partner with this living land? For me, it began with connection, the human experience, and I can testify that when we feel loved and protected and cared for, we are more natural to love and give in return. I feel that our relationship with the earth can be seen in this way. What started as appreciation is evolving into a growing passion for the whole—from species to soil science to politics, and a slow and steady gain of knowledge that is resulting into action.
Oregan geranium (Geranium oreganum) is a great nectar source for butterflies and is frequented by native bees.
Humble in financial equity and assets, I inherited a fortune by the experiences I had as a child, growing up by the river like an alder, hair entwined within the willow’s curls, eyes specked with gold of wild sunflowers and pond lily green. Most are not so rich. We are losing the spaces that allow for this opportunity to form relationship between man and land. Yes, we have parks and sports fields and manicured gardens, but how far does a mother have to drive to feel at ease in the presence of the earth, to have the stillness, the quiet, the diverse habitat that harmoniously coexists, inviting her and her children into it’s mysteries and beauty and speaks to her of home? To understand our function as a whole, as humans within this planet, we must have place. We must learn to eat, sleep, work, play, hear, see, taste, touch; we must know the wildness that exists. We must know land and what abides within in it, personally. It must be an exchange like any other relationship, an investment of time and attention, asking and listening, working and living together.
Kai is proud of his name badge. What a happy budding Naturalist!
-Blog post and photos by GLT Volunteer Naturalist, Hannah King, with inspiration from her Naturalist side-kick and son, Kai.
