Construction looms in the distance. The strike of hammers echoes through the pines, and muffles the chatter of the Redwing Blackbirds. The Blackbirds are preparing to construct nests in the wetland shrub undergrowth. Finches and sparrows are also darting about the wetland.
Those lucky folks that live along the borders of the preserve are certainly fortunate to have this beautiful land right outside their doors.
Though I live within a few miles–still lucky.
Miller Creek Natural Area is among my favorite places to roam during the spring. The land comes alive, and its addictive. Each sensory function is engaged. Even taste: try not to taste that bitter sap from punctured Red Pine stands that wafts invisible through the air. The work of Pileated Woodpeckers.
From the forest floor, to the canopy and beyond, the land comes alive. Its simply an experience that is unique, and one I never tire of. Each year is different, and so am I. Evolving…changing…adapting.
I have been deep in thought lately, contemplating my relationship to the land as I have aged. My perceptions–notions and ideas–of what the land is and does is evolving. Much like a tree, my relationship to the land has branched off from a central trunk. The idea that the land is priceless: the core.
Within the land are its inhabitants, of which have a value that cannot be measured by human kinds grasp of reality. Study after study reveals just how much we do not know about the creatures we share the planet with. I am not sure if ignorance is bliss.
As the years progress, my interaction with the land has morphed into one of a slower pace. An intentional need to wander and observe. To gain an increasingly intimate bond to the natural lands that keep me centered.
-Adam K.
Terrascriber 
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