Making New Discoveries...McCune Nature Preserve

Long after I visit a nature preserve, I continue to think about it as I desire to understand what natural factors came together to create the beauty I observed. The same can be said of McCune Nature Preserve in Petoskey as after my visit last Sunday, I found myself looking at websites and books that could explain the preserve. And of course, once you start to look into one aspect of the natural world, the story grows deeper with one question leading to the next. Soon enough I was trying to wrap my head around all the different natural communities found within the state of Michigan and which ones could be found at McCune.

From McCune's parking lot off Maxwell Road, you enter a Mesic Northern Forest and then descend into a Rich Coniferious Swamp as you move toward Minnehaha Creek. Both of these types of natural communities are found north of the climatic tension zone which runs in Michigan from Bay City to Muskegon, separating the northern forests of the state which contain a higher percentage of conifers, from the south which contains less.

Nobody really knows why this zone exists but it is believed to be due to a difference in soils, the north containing sandy soil which support conifers while the south containing clay rich loamy soil that works for hardwoods. This difference in forests between the north and south is what creates the "up north" feeling in our state. As one crosses over the climatic tension zone and more conifers are observed in the landscape, there is a feeling of getting away from it all as the world takes on a completely different look from what you would find downstate.

McCune's conifer swamp is made accessible with the use of boardwalks, transporting the visitor atop the wet areas down to the creek, passing by northern white cedar and balsam fir along the way. Because of the anaerobic conditions within the soil due to a high water table, the trees are shallow rooted and susceptible to windthrow, resulting in many fallen trees which we noticed along the path. 

Upon reaching the creek, there is a long wooden bridge which leads to a nice bench for which to rest and contemplate the wildness around you. The area in and around the bridge has a messy quality about it with all the fallen trees but it is a natural component of swamps. Because the human created world is so tidy, I can forget that there is a rhythm and reason to why nature does things. If only I could strive to live a more nature inspired life!

As my husband and I made our way back up from the creek, we found ourselves in what would be called a Mesic Northern Forest with its canopy, understory, shrub and herbaceous layers. Because the area was at one time logged, this forest is not yet mature and there are many pioneer trees such as the aspen which you can see in the first picture above. In the distance as we were departing the park, we could see a gently sloping hill, a moraine created long ago as a glacier dropped its debris,while the land we were standing on was the outwash plain, the area where the melting glacial waters ran.

Everything in nature is connected and happens for a reason I am discovering. Just like on a hiking trail, one path leads to the next. Same goes for trying to understand nature - one question leads to the next and the next and the next. I'm currently plagued by trying to understand why Michigan's soil is sandy in the north and not the south. I believe it is due to glacial action, but why was sand dropped in the north primarily? In time this discovery will be made as well...

References:

Michigan Natural Communities: Mesic Northern Forest

Michigan's Natural Communities: Rich Conifer Swamp

Michigan's Floristic Tension Zone

The Story of my Landscape...

As I walk along a path near my home, I can gaze up into the hills of the Boyne Highlands or Nub's Nob ski areas and enjoy the beauty of the varied terrain around me. What helps to better connect me to this land though, is to create a sense of place, to understand how these hills came to be. As a young girl studying Michigan history in school, we learned all about the great sheets of ice that covered our land which created its varied topography and lakes. We never got into the more in depth specifics regarding the mechanics of how the glaciers worked their magic and thus never came to understand words such as recessional moraines or outwash plains. Words which give better meaning to what I am looking at or walking upon as I take a stroll out my door.

As glaciers advanced over Michigan 10,000 to 12,000 years ago, they took the path of least resistance, widening river valleys to form today what is known as the Great Lakes. As these glaciers moved over the land, they operated as a conveyor belt, scooping up debris as they went along, not bulldozing the land as you would think, and then as they melted and began to retreat, hills and valleys were created through this melting as they dropped the debris they had picked up along the way.

As the ice sheets melted, their retreat was done in a stop and go fashion. When they stopped, the glacier dropped the material it was holding known as glacial till. This till as it was deposited, formed hills known as recessional moraines such as what you'd find at Boyne Highlands or Nub's Nob. The flatter areas in front of the moraines were known as outwash plains, where the melting water containing smaller particles of debris such as sand, moved away from the moraines. This is a very simplistic explanation of the process of glaciers and the story of how my local landscape was formed, but to me I find it interesting to begin to connect the dots of how things came to be. To begin to understand why the soil under my feet is comprised of sand or why some places are hilly while others are not. 

Now, as I walk along the path near my home, I no longer just see hills and valleys, but think instead of the huge glaciers that carved out the story of my landscape. There is much more to learn and so many questions to be unlocked regarding this story but that is what gets me out the door over and over again. 

References:

Atlas of Early Michigan Forests, Grasslands and Wetlands

Soil Survey of Emmet County Michigan

Our Icy Past, Geologists reveal what shaped Michigan

Outwash plains, Michigan State Geology

Woods and Water...Petoskey State Park

May through October, Petoskey State Park is busy with motorhomes rumbling along its roads and beachgoers lounging on its shores, the campgrounds brimming with people, making it feel as crowded as the parks you'd find downstate. But once the weather turns cooler in mid October and the last camper pulls up stakes and departs, foot and bike traffic become the only movement along many of the park's roads, as big yellow gates close off vehicular access to the campgrounds, allowing for a period of peace within the park as late fall and winter settles in slowly.

Last Sunday my husband and I rose early and headed over to the park, finding ourselves the only car in the parking lot closest to the beach. We popped out of the car, our dog in tow, and walked along the beach until we came across the wooden overlook and steps providing access to the Tannery Creek campground. From this point we walked back along the paved park road until we reached our car once again, the trip taking us about 45 minutes, during which time we came across only one group of bikers.

Yesterday, my son, and I parked in the lot near the camper registration booth and walked up the road to the Tannery Creek campground and out onto the beach, passing only one woman as she walked her dogs. It was a beautiful, warm day, made even more beautiful as we had the whole place basically to ourselves. There are about three trails within the park, allowing you lots of down and back loop options, whether it is by road, beach or wooded trail.  For a better idea of what I am talking about, here is link to the map of the park: Petoskey State Park Map

Today, with the wind kicking up and gale warnings posted, we headed once again over to Petoskey State Park, the idea being that we wanted to take a quick walk to see the waves rolling. The picture below was not taken at the park, but was taken at the breakwall in Petoskey which we visited after the park. The waves crashing give an example of just how windy it was.

While at the state park, in order to stay out of the wind today we walked along the wooded trail between the Dunes and Tannery Creek campground, a quiet and beautiful unspoiled trail lined with evergreens which paralleled the beach but with a huge dune separating us from the beach, serving as a wind break. The park tries to protect the dunes by erecting fences in the campground areas to keep people off in order to prevent erosion. I can imagine this is a huge task with so many visitors looking at the dunes as a challenge to be scaled. Staying on the paths provided and staying off the dunes considered off limits is the best way to protect the dunes ecosystem. The Nature Conservancy provides some interesting information on dune systems here.

Some places draw you in and beckon you to come back again and again. Petoskey State Park with its mix of woods and water is that place for me. Especially in the off season when there are very few people around. Because it is close to my home, I can get there easily and frequently and was the first park I visited in Emmet County, when I cross-country skied there last winter as my husband and I checked out the area for a possible move here. It was this park that called to me, reassuring me that all would be right with moving back to Michigan. Reminded me as I gazed upon its waters that I was coming home.

Resources:

Petoskey State Park website

Petoskey State Park map 

Nature Conservancy Dune Systems info

Single Track Fun...Offield Family Nature Preserve

While traveling by bike allows you to cover a lot of territory in a short amount of time, it can also leave you breathless, unable to take in all of the sights of the natural world whizzing by. This was the case last Sunday as my husband and me soared through the Offield Family Nature Preserve along well maintained paths. We were the only ones in the park so the beauty of the place was able to speak loudly, reminding us that peace of mind is arrived at best while out in the wilds. Every turn brought new challenges, either a hill to climb or descend or a decision regarding what path next to follow through the woods.

I was happy to see that the understory of the forest was not clogged with non-natives, obscuring the view through the woods, thus allowing one to gaze deeply through many layers of trees, letting thoughts expand and feel free versus feeling constricted and tense. Opening me up to notice that the beauty of the earth is all I need to bring me happiness.

What a beautiful way to spend a Sunday! This nature preserve is truly a wonderful place, whether hiked, biked or skied and I look forward to wrapping myself in it regularly.

Walking the Land...Boyne Highlands

I can get there from here. I can set my feet in motion, my senses heightened, through a play land made for man to the top of a hill where beyond the view of the bay beckons me into the hush of undisturbed forest on the backside of the mountain. It is within reach, this large tract of undeveloped land, providing wildlife corridors, places for animals to live out their lives in a relatively quiet place away from the influence of man. 

I like that I can arrive at this place under my own power, soft footfall one in front of the other, gaining elevation until I am rewarded with my efforts. Rewarded as well with the ability to get away from it all into a place where my mind is cluttered with nothing but being in the moment. Noticing the leaves on the trees beginning their annual turn or how the trail underfoot is sandy. Wondering about the geological history behind how the sand I see on the distant lake shore continues to persist this far inland. There are so many questions about the natural world, how can one answer them all?

This coming winter I look forward to gliding along the cross country ski trails placed into this forest, discovering the land anew as it is washed in white, thankful that the resort near my home has left the backside of this mountain wild so that this natural paradise can be enjoyed by many. It wasn't too long ago that the Native Americans who lived on this land felt it was owned by all, wild animals and man alike, as there was no land ownership. It was refreshing for me to realize that today, despite the fact that the land I had traversed was owned by a large resort company, I could walk the trails and enjoy the views and feel in many ways that it was still held in this manner.

Link:

Boyne Highlands Resort

Wilderness State Park

"I have had Lake Michigan calling to me for quite some time. Maybe since even before I moved back here to my native state of Michigan. While living in Philadelphia, I'd head over to Little Crum Creek daily and sit and watch the water flow around the pebbles and boulders in the creek bed. Wishing for some kind of message from the water. Praying really to understand the reason behind why I needed to spend so much of my time alongside a waterway."

Given how humans came from and are a part of nature, it shouldn't be surprising that I'd be looking for the wisdom held within the natural world to give me answers. Nature holds the keys to all that is here on our planet so seeking answers within that framework makes sense. It has been my experience when out in the wilds that sometimes awareness can come quick and can be as simple as just taking the time to notice the shape of a tree. I may see a tree's trunk deformed by a lightening strike, yet its beautiful branches still reach skyward telling me that despite trauma, beauty prevails. Other times, the lessons of the natural world can take longer to piece together. Such is the case with me and Lake Michigan.

I didn't know I was seeking a connection to Lake Michigan initially. Instead the lesson for me and water started out with questions, such as "why do I constantly want to be around water?" or "why does the sound of rain speak to me?" From my perspective, leaning into these queries takes time and requires that we step away from our every day lives and responsibilities. To just sit and be and notice while out in the wilds. To sit upon a beach on the ocean or stand upon a bridge over a creek. In response to my questions regarding water, I did make a sojourn over to the Atlantic Ocean while living on the East Coast and as I watched the sun rise into the sky to start a new day, discovered the word "LOVE" written with seashells in response to my question thrown hopefully into the wind, "why does the beauty of a sunrise move me and make me feel embraced and connected?" While I loved the insights gained from my time at the ocean, I still felt the desire to figure out exactly what was pulling at me in regard to water.

This past weekend my husband and I headed up to Wilderness State Park, a short 30 minute drive from my house. Despite it being a Sunday, we were the only ones there. As we walked up and over sand dunes and down onto a vast beach, with the blue waters of Lake Michigan stretching out before me to the horizon, I was hit with a memory from my childhood. One of being away from it all, surrounded by quiet in a beautiful setting. When I was 14, I spent three weeks sailing with my aunt and uncle and their two children along the northern shores of Lake Michigan and Huron. We spent just about every night in peaceful isolated coves or small harbors. We visited uninhabited islands, hiking across them or swimming along their shores. We were alone and away and had the places we visited all to ourselves. That feeling for me was recaptured on Sunday when visiting Wilderness State Park with my husband and as I sat on the beach taking in the scenery around me, I was 14 again. Reveling in the peace that only nature can bring. Something I haven't had for a long, long time and something my body has been trying to tell me I have needed for quite some time now. I have felt this call to water as a longing. Of missing a part of myself really. The respite found from being away from it all along the shores of one of the Great Lakes was imprinted upon me during those summer weeks spent with my aunt and uncle and is something I need to have in order to feel a sense of place within myself. A creek in Pennsylvania can't fill it and neither can the Atlantic Ocean. When one feels the call of "home," there are no substitutes.

Link:
Wilderness State Park 

Thorne Swift Nature Preserve

Where woods and water meet. Bringing together two vastly different ecosystems under the umbrella of the Thorne Swift Nature Preserve. I have been on the beaches of the East Coast from Maine to Florida and many of them are over developed, containing housing developments and shopping areas and overrun with way too many people. So it was nice to visit this quiet little park just north of Harbor Springs and walk the wooded trails leading to Lake Michigan. Despite it being high season, my husband and I were the only folks on the trails.

When you pull into the drive at Thorne Swift, you are greated by a sweet little nature center featuring exhibits of the local flora and fauna as well as books on nature with a cozy reading nook for which to peruse them. The friendly caretaker greets you upon arrival and answers any questions you may have and sets you on your way along well maintained trails. I loved the boardwalks that ushered us through the marshy areas of the park as well as the benches to sit and stop and be contemplative along the way. Interpretive signs help you identify the beauty around you and birdsong keeps you company.

The trail system is short but all the better for it leads the way quickly out to the beach via two loop options. Along the way there is a fantastic overlook that crosses over a undisturbed dune and a bit further along the trail you find a short staircase that brings you down to the pristine beach. All in all, a great getaway and worthwhile trip if getting away from it all is what you seek.

Link:

Thorne Swift Nature Preserve

Musical messages...

What is that song I don't understand? The slightest breeze will get the Quaking Aspens in my yard rustling and as the wind picks up, the other trees begin to play as well, becoming a symphony as many trees chime in. The stately pines remain silent on most days, the breeze too faint to catch their thin leaves. But on other days, when a louder, more fast paced song is being played, their whirring sounds add a special kind of melody.

When I first moved back up north after being away for many years, it was the trees that sang me home, their song matching the music they played from my childhood. It was a song known deep within my body, bringing me back to a place where my life was fresh and full of possibilities. Those possibilities over the years became twisted into cultural and other's expectations, and I went in a few directions that did not feed the girl who sat on the dock of her Grandmother's cottage dreaming all those years ago. I can barely remember the dreams I had then but I do feel they are locked in the song the trees in my yard play. Singing me back into the wisdom of my youthful soul.

Just like the trees have a language I can't fully comprehend upon casual listening, I have an early childhood language that is hard to access as an adult, yet written inside me and containing keys to my authentic wisdom and life directions. This wisdom is still there as I can feel it aching to come to the surface once again, encouraging me to do the work to bring it forth. Hopefully, over time, as I spend time sitting in my yard listening to the trees, their melody will rekindle in me the language of my early self.

Being Alone

I am starting to see that deep connection with ones source comes from being alone. Preferably somewhere ensconced in the natural world. Moving to northern Michigan has provided me with the opportunity to move toward more solitude, more aloneness which upon first inspection has sometimes felt like loneliness. A feeling of wishing I had my old life in Philadelphia back where I was constantly in the company of others.

But being with others all the time in Philly had started to feel like too much socializing and not enough contemplation. Not enough time for myself to think deeply about life and what my soul cared for. I had deep friendships but also way too many acquaintances that kept me distracted. It seemed I was trying to keep too many social obligation balls in the air.

Moving to Michigan felt like an opportunity to take a break from the busyness of socializing. To really get back to the basics of learning to be with myself. It is surprising then that I have felt a feeling of unease, desiring to have friends in my midst again. From Sara Maitland's book, "How to be Alone," I have come to understand that while solitude is important, one should also have some friendships in order to create a balance and not veer too far into the loneliness realm. I can see from Sara's book that I need to acquire some local relationships while moving toward solitude in order to stave off loneliness. To keep a feeling of sadness that comes when one feels they have no friends at bay. But as I say this I wonder, am I feeling a different feeling than loneliness when choosing to have more solitude in my life?

I have felt loneliness before and it feels more like desperation. Like wanting to meet someone, anyone, no matter who they are. Usually this feeling is followed up by a quick unfulfilling friendship with someone you have nothing in common with. The unease I feel due to this move does not feel like desperation and feels rather like being uncomfortable. As I move more toward solitude, I believe uncomfortable emotions are arising as I transition from one way of being into another, into a new plane of consciousness. I find myself pushing into a new way of being. Of needing myself more than others. Of walking away from having too many relationships which bring busyness and distraction into my life, keeping me apart from the deep satisfaction of having time for myself.

I think it is hard to step away from busyness and distraction because our culture supports those who have lots of friends and our worth can be built on how busy we are. This busyness brings on a feeling of self importance which feels vital to our being. So we stay active and fear going to a place of quiet and aloneness. That is what I am feeling with this move. A fear of moving away from being busy. Of no longer feeling validated and important enough. Not a feeling of loneliness.

So I must push through and eliminate needing to be busy and social all the time and reap the benefits of being alone. Seeking solitude. Hearing my own voice. Having time to pursue my passions in order to be fulfilled in a new kind of way. To ignore the uncomfortableness of not being busy and focus instead on where my heart is leading me. To work toward being alone, while being careful to add a few quality friendships to the mix.

View from my Hammock

I am finding that it is taking me some time to learn how to slow down in this new place I live. To be able to take time out each day to sit and read or write. I have just felt so scattered and unsettled from the move, feeling that I had so much to get done, while fretting in the back of my mind that the days were mindlessly passing me by. I knew I needed a place outside my home where I could decompress, to get away from my to-do list and simply "be." To ignore the laundry and dirty floor or the feeling of needing to buy something to make my house feel like a home. In the end, I did buy something - a hammock stand - so that I could string my existing hammock on its framework in order to have a pleasant place to rest and swing in the breeze.

I just read an excellent article called "Healing Ourselves" which talks about the important connection between nature and humans. How humanity has lost something valuable in its move away from the natural world. And how a return to spending time in nature can help cure us of much that ails us. I think we all know this subconsciously, especially given how refreshed we feel after spending time outdoors.

I think I have been craving the natural world for a long time as I facilitated programs to get women in my church out into nature while living just outside the city of Philadelphia. How I found myself constantly heading to local waterways or woodlots in order to clear my mind. While these activities fed me well for a good long time, especially because I so loved all of the women I was in community with, I knew in my core that I needed to find bigger tracts of nature.

Coming back to my native state of Michigan, to the wild places I summered as a girl, has rekindled something in me. Taking me further back to who I was before the world came in and told me who to be. Allowing me to start anew and consider rebuilding myself while embracing the sanctity of nature.

Roots

When I first learned that I was soon to be moving back to Michigan this past February, I stumbled upon these words which spoke deeply to me:

She's unravelling the story in her roots.

She's been journeying in the deep for a while now. Currently, she's tracing her history with the lands that have held her. That piece of land where she was born, the land where her ancestors came from, the land where she first bled, the land where she fell in love, the land where her heart was broken, or where her children were born. She's discovering how the story of the land is deeply woven with the story of her life. Cities, towns, villages, forests ~ so many places where her story is deeply planted. Sometimes the story of the land is not different from hers. They share the same pain body.

As she traces her connection back into the earth, it's not been easy. There are so many painful tales buried in these grounds. There are many denials of who she is. Incomplete loops. She's meeting her underground roots for the first time, spread in so many places. As she re-enters the relationship with her underground, she's understanding what it is that is holding her, anchoring her. She's taking her time to gather all her history back. She's kissing the roots of her tree. 

~ Sukhvinder Sircar

This passage inspires in me to dig deep into my soul depths. To retrieve the lost parts of myself, covered up by time and complicity. There is an intertwining between myself and the land and it is my hope that as I discover one, I will discover the other.