Spring is Here! – Blog Post #4

View of the Anthony Lawrence Wildlife Preserve.

My walk began with a deep inhale while starting down the Anthony Lawrence Wildlife Preserve trail. The air was crisp and refreshing as the sun streamed through the trees hitting the ground to create a light show. The transition from winter to spring was unfolding before my eyes. The daily temperatures were rising, the buds on the trees were unfolding, and the birds were coming back to sing their songs. The excitement was in the air as the trees, birds and animals were beginning to stir. Life had hit pause for the harsh winter, but now everything seemed to dance and smile once again. The silence that we all often experience during winter was muted by the sounds of spring. The birds complimented one another without much effort and created a beautiful song. One of the great wonders of springtime is when the frogs and salamanders make their move towards the vernal pools to lay their eggs. During this time, it is hard to miss their loud noises. If you ever walk by a vernal pool during this time, then you will most likely hear the frogs signaling the start of spring.

Buds developing as spring comes.

Now, it isn’t just the frogs, trees and birds that begin to stir with excitement, but humans are also beginning the spring dance. When I feel the warmer temperatures and sun hitting my face, a sense of inspiration overcomes me. My productivity, happiness, and motivation increase greatly. The Land Trust work relies heavily on this inspiration to create the positive impact on our communities. How interesting that this inspiration comes from the very thing that we are trying to protect: nature. My hope for all of you is that you feel inspired to get involved. The change that we need to ensure a healthy future starts and ends with your motivation to get involved. My challenge for you is to get involved with your community with something that you are passionate about. The energy and excitement that you bring to the table could be the spark that ignites real change. Once you get involved, bring someone along with you to show them the work that you have been doing. Spring is a time for action. The sun is out, the warm temperatures are here and the leaves are showing their colors. Join the excitement and get out there!

Skunk cabbage growing where it grows best!

Taking a Closer Look – Blog Post #3

I started down the path on the Colman Reservation wondering: what was I going to see today? This thought often occurs to me when I first start walking on a trail since my eyes need a destination to land on. My eyes flicked from one color to another almost instinctively while registering some of the scene but mostly brushing past it. What stuck out the most were the large oak trees softly swaying in the wind and the massive, gray rock that sees every wandering eye that passes by. These sights are not easily missed, but it takes a pair of keen eyes to look past and into the unseen background. On this day, my brain fired off the electrical signals that slowed down my eyes to look deeper. Almost instantly, an entire new world came into focus.

Small details that filled in the gaps of the never-ending photo helped to complete the picture. What had originally appeared to be a familiar scene soon took on a completely new form. The delicate crevices in the cracks of the tree bark presented

Moss and fungi growing on the bark of a tree.

an opportunity for resourceful organisms to prosper. The lens of my camera as well as my eye zoomed in on the newly found organisms. Green, furry arms of moss reached out to the sun smiling as they gratefully accepted the energy to create their food. The arms were no longer than one centimeter but vastly abundant up and down the tree creating a wave of green. Intermingled between the moss grew squishy, green mushrooms closely packed next to one another in order to maximize the limited amount of space on the tree. The two organisms danced and expanded together as they could feel spring just around the corner.

Moss covered side of the massive rock on the Colman Reservation.

One sight that stands the test of time is the massive, gray rock that rests on the Colman Reservation. You see it every time you visit, and yet there is always something new that you can learn from it. The countless years that it has existed lends itself to an immeasurable source of knowledge that exists in every dent and crack. Even with this amount of knowledge, we must look closer. My feet carried me past the side facing the trail and exposed the backside of the rock. The gray surface was masked by a wall of tightly packed green moss. This remarkable organism was in full display flexing its power to survive where nothing else could. Utilizing only tiny droplets of water, these mosses can grow in the most barren environments. Given this superpower, the mosses captured the water that snaked its way down the side of

Dark-colored fungi sprawling out on a tree.

the rock and produced its furry, green arms that extend towards the sky. The tiny roots of the moss captured the knowledge trapped in each crack of the rock. Content with the little amount that they have, the moss grows and grows without any complaints. I continued on with my walk having learned about the power of small organisms in this immense ecosystem. My challenge for you all is to slow down and look around, you might end up seeing something that you didn’t know was there!

Remembering the Past – Blog Post #2

I walked through the Phil and Ginny Leach Wildlife Sanctuary as my eyes strained at the sun-rays bouncing off the white blanket of snow. I took the time while out there to remember my previous experiences. Many of my fondest memories have been while out in areas just like this. One of the most important parts of conservation work is understanding the interactions between plants and animals in the area that you are working in. A term that I was introduced to during my experience at Maine

Species account on a Downy Woodpecker.

Species account on Eastern White Pine trees.

Coast Semester at Chewonki in Wiscasset, Maine was being a naturalist. This term reemerged throughout the many future endeavors that I went on. As a 17-year-old, I did not fully embrace this idea or understand what it meant. I would get glimpses into the understanding of it when I was told to count the number of birds that visit a bird feeder in an hour time slot each week. Why am I doing this? Or learning the identification of the native tree species that live on the Maine Coast along with their common and scientific name. What is the point of this? Or trekking through the woods in search of vernal pools to locate and mark them for future evaluation of their health. Where are we going? Or spending one day each week going to new sites like beaches or mountaintops where we learned about how the features were formed, and what plant and animal species live in the area. We do this every week?! Or writing species accounts on various plants and animals. I have to write another one? Or spending two nights and three days alone in the woods with no one but myself. Am I sleeping out here alone? Or simply sitting in the forests and watching it exist as it has for thousands of years. Why am I just sitting here? As a 17-year-old, I was not yet able to appreciate what I was learning during all these experiences.

A moose sighting on a canoe trip in 2013 in northern Ontario.

I continued on with my life with this new idea in my head about being a naturalist. I carried it with me as I spent my summers up in northern Ontario where I canoed on some of the most remote areas that I have ever been to. Animal sightings of bald and golden eagles, moose, and herons were all too common during our trip. Wolf, bear and even wolverine sightings were less frequent but did occur. On one special day, we stumbled upon the aftermath of a wolf feast on a deer. This was a stark reminder of the territory that we were traveling through. My appreciation for the natural world was growing at a rapid pace, and the idea of being a naturalist started to come into focus. I began to realize what my mistake was with my past experiences with the natural world: I was putting myself at the center focus. My inner dialogue consisted of this: Why am I here? What I am doing? Where are we going? The questions that I should have been asking needed to be less self-centered and much more thoughtful. Questions like: Why are vernal pools so important? What animals rely on these pools? Why do animals prefer a certain habitat over another one? What animals rely on one another for survival? These questions are at the heart of being a naturalist.

A very rare wolverine sighting in northern Ontario!

Ultimately, these questions are a skill. A skill that we as humans must learn and use in order to save our planet, and that skill is called listening. I finally understand why I had simply just sat in the woods and heard the sounds of nature. I was listening to nature! If we want to be successful conservationists, then we have to be naturalists. We must listen to the ecosystems and understand what their needs are. Similar to the silliness of putting a road somewhere where there are no cars, it is just as silly to protect an area without first listening to its needs. We all have a lot of work to do in the coming years to help our planet heal, but one thing that we all can do right now is start listening to what nature has been telling us.

Downy woodpecker spotted on the Leach property.

New TerraCorps Member for the Attleboro Land Trust – Evan Foster

Riding my bike in the Adirondacks.

My name is Evan Foster, and I will be serving as the TerraCorps member at the Attleboro Land Trust for the next several months. TerraCorps members are a part of the larger AmeriCorps National program whose mission states “making service an indispensable part of the American experience”. TerraCorps service members are placed in community-nonprofits across the states of Massachusetts and Rhode Island. The TerraCorps mission is to engage and mobilize future leaders to get involved with local communities and conserve land for both people and nature. Equity is at the heart of what TerraCorps strives to achieve. TerraCorps members understand that individuals in underrepresented communities do not have the same access to these public lands and aim to create opportunities for those communities to experience them. The future of land conservation lies in the same goal of making land more equitable. To understand more about the TerraCorps mission, I highly recommend visit their website to read more: (https://terracorps.org/equity-in-land-conservation/).

Skiing at Jay Peak Resort in Vermont.

Growing up in Boxborough, MA in a family that highly valued outdoor recreation, my passion for environmental work was formed at a young age. My childhood experiences ranged from skating on a backyard rink to attending a canoe summer camp in Canada to swimming in the local pond to running cross country in high school. I developed a love for the outdoors, and it has shaped everything that I have done so far. When it was time for me to think about attending college, I landed on the University of Vermont because of its strong environmental program. Living in Burlington, Vermont gave me access to an endless number of outdoor activities including cross country and downhill skiing, snowshoeing, road/mountain biking, rock climbing, and numerous hikes throughout the Green Mountains. My degree in Environmental Science was complimented and enhanced by all of these activities. I soon discovered another passion of mine through my Geospatial Technologies minor which involved using satellite imagery for a variety of reasons including creating maps, analyzing spatial data, and much more. I continued with this passion into my undergraduate job at the Spatial Analysis Lab where I gained experience creating Land Use/Land Cover maps for cities and towns across North America. I developed an indispensable skill that I hope to bring to the Attleboro Land Trust. I am extremely excited to be serving with the Attleboro Land Trust and am ready to put my education and knowledge to use! Feel free to reach out to me if you have questions or want to get to know me better (evanfosteralt@gmail.com). Happy winter!

A Winter Choir – Blog Post #1

A Winter Choir

Japanese Umbrella Pine.    Image credit: Evan Foster

The heavy snowflakes gracefully fell from the sky but quickly dissipated into liquid the moment they touched my bright, orange jacket. The individual snowflakes that found their home on me were no match against the heat emanating from my body, but the ground beneath my feet was a different story. Most snowflakes swirled past my jacket full of energy almost as if they were squealing with glee as they rode the air towards the ground. They nestled and nuzzled with the other sparkles of light until they formed a blank, white sheet of snow, an almost perfect white. My brown, ragged pair of boots looked odd against the white of the snow, and yet my boot was accepted by the snow with each step that it took. The snow sank and creaked as I walked past the Japanese Umbrella Pine and into Deborah’s Garden. I wondered to myself what those creaks meant. Were the snowflakes all talking… were they trying to talk to me?

A fairy house next to the boardwalk covered in snow.    Image credit: Evan Foster

This thought was quick and fleeting as a loud groan came from a nearby tree. The wind whistled as it blew through the branches and rocked the large tree trunks. The trees complimented each other as the groans echoed throughout the forest. I soon found myself traversing on the snowy boardwalk that snaked through the wetlands. With snowflakes still falling all around me, I pushed forward along the path but something new was emerging: a flap and a chirp. It was an effortless note caught and replicated from one bird to another. My ears perked up with every chirp that came from the remaining few birds that stayed for the winter.

A snowy tree in the woods of Richardson Preserve.    Image credit: Evan Foster

I emerged from the forest past the final trees and into the lower hayfield where I saw the full display of the winter flurries. There was a white sheet in front of me that made it difficult to see to the other side. My head remained down to avoid the snow hitting my eyes and to keep my vulnerable face from getting too cold. I wondered to myself; how do the birds fly in this? I wondered if their instincts take over and guide them to where they feel they should be or if it was something else. I wished to myself that I could find the answers by simply asking the birds.

The field echoed and amplified the sounds around me, and I soon found myself caught in a chorus of a song. There was a choir out there: the chirps from the birds, the groans from the trees, the creaks from the snow and the squeals from the snowflakes. This song filled my head and carried me home with the answers that I had longed for.