Arboretum Diary

"Science has not yet arrived on the Gavilan, so the otter plays tag in its pools and riffles and chases the fat rainbows from under its mossy banks..." – Leopold, from "Song of the Gavilan"










8/27


We find out most of what we know about nature at the edges of things – the edges that we walk past along the trailside leading to Picnic Point at Lake Mendota, where the planting of a prairie, as it lunges out into the trail, is most certainly there, but what is inside? In the other direction, the great edge of the shallow bank of the lake, where soft sand leads to hard rock for several feet as far as we can see but most certainly gouges hundreds of feet deep beyond at shelves around the lake. Invasive buckthorn and basswoods serve as the green surroundings with the occasional pine climbing high seeking its own share of sunshine in soil that it is not always kind to its species.  A short walk at Wingra Savannah is the city edge of things, a boardwalk trail system that passes by one of the great springs bubbling out of the sand, preserved to roll along as a creek into the manmade pond that its itself at the edge of the Lake. The edges of things how we get to sneak a peak into the daily idiosyncrasies of the natural world. Take a few hundred steps off path along Monroe Street and there is a wide cut-out of grass that leads to a stand of dominant goldenrod which serves as a sort of gate to the pond. Behind, the harsh crackles and roars of steady course of cars, a helicopter above in the background, maybe a jogging party collective footfall along the asphalt trail. Yet, in nearly undetectable waves, the quieter footfall of the grasshoppers come into play and it is no longer a mere visual feature but a city habitat – it doesn't take much.  Geese slowly move through the muck of the pond below and deeper yet, not visible, the quieting chorus of a few fall birds on the island shore. Only months ago, along this same path, nature had taken more of its share as the songbirds arrived and the foliage around the boardwalks were still toe high at the edge of things.  Soon, the muffler of sounds, snow, will take over those same edges, but for the adventurer also offer up a path across the frozen pond and onto land otherwise unknown. What is the view like at the other side of the island, when the city is no longer visible?