” Keep close to Nature’s heart…and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.” -John Muir
Walk with me…
It’s that time of year again. I miss the crisp air and fall colors in my Indiana hometown. But I’ve discovered a hidden gem just a short drive from Tucson, Arizona. Madera Canyon “washes my spirit clean.” Breathe the cool, fresh air. Look around. Listen. Few words are needed. Come, walk with me…
See a blush of fall color…
Listen to the water dancing over the rocks. Feel the cool mountain stream…
Get in touch with a tree…
Wonder at ancient stones…
The circular depression in this boulder is a mortar used by prehistoric people to process wild plant food.
I had some time to myself on a recent trip to Chicago. My sister, who was working from home that morning, suggested I take a walk to the West Ridge Nature Park, less than a mile from her home. I’m not an urban dweller. Big cities make me nervous and to make matters worse, I am directionally challenged.
“The route is simple,” she assured me. “Take your cell phone, but you’ll be fine.”
Curiosity conquered fear. I ventured out from my sister’s neighborhood of quaint 1930s bungalows, cozy yards, and shaded streets and headed east for several blocks.
City Sidewalks
The traffic noise increased as I approached the busy intersection and turned towards the park. Picturesque family homes gave way to commercial buildings interspersed with rickety apartment buildings. The air was hot and sticky. City buses rushed by, spewing diesel fumes my way.
My pace quickened as I continued past sidewalk debris that showed evidence of late-night parties or early morning breakfasts. Cars parked along the street seemed to be forgotten. I checked my pocket to make sure my cell phone was at the ready.
Nature to the Rescue
I was relived to see the park gates. West Ridge Nature Park is a twenty-one acre park that was dedicated in 2015. Once a never-used, neglected section of Rosehill Cemetery, the planners removed invasive plants and filled the space with native vegetation and designed paved pathways that meander through the grounds and around a pond. As I stepped through the gate into the lush forest, the busy urban streetscape disappeared behind me.
The path was welcoming, and I was delighted to see the storywalk, pages of a children’s book, posted along the trail.
Wildflowers waved their late summer petals as I passed by. Cicada chirps and bird song replaced the city sounds. A church bell rang in the distance.
A group of birdwatchers approached as I was examining a walnut that had fallen on the path.
“People used to put walnuts in their driveways and run over them with their cars to get the tough outer skin off,,” a lady with binoculars around her neck said.
“My great-grandmother told me she used to do that!” I examined the walnut, avoiding the brown stain oozing from its green, leathery skin.
A flash of crimson caught my eye, heralding the beginning of fall. Was it my imagination, or did the air feel different here? Cooler. Cleaner.
The gaggle of geese I had been observing honked in alarm as I got too close. They ran across the pond before taking flight, leaving a trail of splashes on the surface of the water.
All too soon, the path brought me back to where I’d started. I left the park and began walking back along the busy city sidewalk, the urban oasis safely tucked away behind its sturdy, chain-link fence.
Yet, now and then, nature reaches out to touch the city.
Threads of Thought
Are you an urban dweller? Small town? Rural?
September ushers in the fall season. What signs do you see in your area?
