Walking into the rust-tinged, dappled woods just behind the Mansfield Public Library, I’m amazed at the golden light burnishing the forest of oak, beech, and hickory. Post-Thanksgiving, it feels good to walk in the brisk air.
Bradley-Buchanan Woods, part of the larger Echo Pond Area in Mansfield Center—including Echo Woods, Echo Lake, and Pond Lot—was in 1970 the first parcel protected by Joshua’s Trust. The 22-acre woods sit on a rare geologic feature called a pitted kame terrace. Nearly 15,000 years ago the meltwater from a retreating glacier coursed through the valley, burying huge chunks of ice that then melted, forming a terrace with pocked closed depressions, or kettles. Some dry up in the summer but become vernal pools in the spring, hosting amphibians and fairy shrimp. Others deep enough to intersect the water table hold water year-round. Pine thrive in this well-drained soil created by the sandy glacial outwash. Most of these terraces have been lost to mining operations, but this one has remained through the centuries.
Passing these kettles, I follow the half-mile yellow-blazed trail down to a boardwalk, where a splash alerts me to a great blue heron taking off from the water. This connects to a mile-long loop trail through white pine forest, its floor dotted with healthy colonies of club moss, eventually extending to a walking path along a flood control levee and more trails in Mansfield Hollow State Park.
These shorter days, the light scarce as the sun sets early, I appreciate it even more. I’m thankful for much, especially this holiday season with so many in need. I was lucky, having parents who loved the outdoors: as a child I hiked with my father in the nearby hills and mountains, and my mother enjoyed hard work or even simpler garden tasks like sinking our hands into the soil during spring planting, and raking autumn leaves that crunched underfoot. If times got tough, I always knew that I’d feel better once outside.
Too many of us aren’t shown from a young age the value of nature, didn’t have equal access to or feel at ease in nature—because it hasn’t been safe for everybody. It can be easy to take for granted what for some of us is just outside our door. But nature’s magic is for all of us to share—we’re part of nature as much as it’s a part of us.
Mist rises as I climb the gentle hills, shuffling through fallen oak leaves that carpet the trail. Here, sharp scent of wood-burning stove, there, fragrance of autumn rot breaking down organic matter to support new life. The forest’s ponds, lakes, and swamp slowly reveal themselves through a cloud of winterberries. A rustling through the leaves, and just before it’s gone I spy the fluffy tail of a red fox as it disappears into the woods.
Thanks, Irene,
I’d like to still smell the “fragrance of autumn” but I think those days are gone. Glad for your fine contributions!
George
Beautifully written, Irene…
Ana