Exploring Prevernal Unfoldings at Pemberton Park

Because every day is new,we have never arrivedand cannot expect to understand.So let it go.---And like the bird who singswithou tknowing why,every step is taken with gratitude.                                   

Tao te Ching, Chapter 15, translated by Kari Hohne

Spring has arrived, and the woods are awakening. The prevernal earth thaws out from its frozen dormancy. Everywhere life is emerging, creeping around my boots and moistening my hands as I thrust them into the earth. The green has intensified with the recent warmth of the sun. Yet, not all the flora and fauna in Pemberton has remained dormant throughout the winter months. Even in the midst of winter, dark mounds of unearthed soil were a tell-tale sign of activity in the powdery snow. Eastern Gray Squirrels were digging up their autumn-gathered caches to warm their small rodent bodies. But, now the spring thaw has eased their workload. The energy swarming through the woods is a telling sign that the warmth is here to stay, and I can say that the timing couldn’t be better.

Although this place is teeming with hidden wonders, today I find myself searching for creative inspiration. The elation of visceral guidance that usually peaks as I pull into the parking lot is cold, begging for ignition.  So treasured by Thoreau in his ventures into the living world, that expected spark of intuition to veer north or south, hasn’t come.  At least yet.  As I walk to the site I have been haunting for about two months it seems like, for the first time, that I am caged in by the requirement to submit an assignment, and no longer have free access to the pure pleasure of the outdoors. John Muir’s words swirl through my head, “Take a course of good water and air, and in the eternal youth of Nature you may renew your own. Go quietly, alone; no harm will befall you.” This is my mantra, my motivation for this walk. I must let go of the false sense of structure and rediscover the why of this journey. Wildness is “something ineffable and strange and raw at the heart of the most common experience” (Schneider, 15). Agreeing with these sentiments, I ache to constantly cultivate my repertoire of natural phenomena. This is the point where research is vital to my natural history of Pemberton Park; passion for details and miniscule cycles drives my observations along with this strange pull to immerse myself within it. To witness and apprehend nature unfold in one’s presence one must first investigate it processes and unique life cycles. Once the awareness of deep interconnectedness is realized, one’s entire mindset is able to expand much beyond what was viewed before. Peeking down at the details around my boots is the fuel that feeds the fire. I remind myself that nature has surprises waiting if only you are open to them.

The fallen Red Oak and sweet gum leaves that line the clearing have dried in the sun. No longer dark brown and saturated with snowmelt, they dance with the breeze. These final bits and pieces of a year gone by are fading and crumbling soon to disappear from my sight. A few months back, in the gray of January, the loblolly, Red Oak and Red Maple were able to tolerate subfreezing temperature by cooling below their actual freezing point without forming ice, also known as “supercooling” (Marchand, 43-44). Many pines can tolerate -80 C and below, so the pines at Pemberton are safe from death with winter averages hovering around 1 C (Marchand, 55; Maryland.gov) As for the deciduous inhabitants of this forest, almost every once skeletal limb is lined with buds of all sorts of shapes, colors, and textures. Not only are the beech and maples coming back to life as we picture them, but the English ivy and wild grape vines snaking around the trunks have budded and began new leaf growth as well. They have also reached across the ground and crept from the wasted cover of the woods to reach out toward the clearing. Perhaps the climbing plants are hungry for sunlight and thrive with breathing room apart from the other suffocating flora of the coastal forest. Whatever the reason, movement and growth is apparent and enlightening. To witness a grand change from bitter winter to a calm spring season is a blessing in itself, especially for someone who appreciates the biology and ecology of the naturally unfolding world.

In my spare time I have been reading Footsteps in the Jungle by Jonathan Maslow, a compilation of essays regarding natural history of the American tropics. One particular essay stuck with me and has altered my perception of natural relationships, specifically predator-prey relationships and competition in nature. Although predator-prey relationships create harmony throughout the plant and animal kingdoms, Alexander Skutch in A Moralist in the Jungle suggests that this is a blip in the evolutionary timescale, that animal deaths by predator-prey are the only mistake that evolution has made. At first I agree with the claim posed by Skutch, but then begin to dig into memory to unearth the ecological insights that I have gathered over the years. Predator-prey relationships create balance and harmony of all living things. Without this, most animals would be herbivores, which would greatly alter the way in which the natural world works now, and species would have a hard time balancing their populations. Here at Pemberton I come to realize that predator-prey relationships are of great importance, otherwise creatures would die from starvation due to increased competition for plants as a food source, especially in the winter months. If the Eastern cottontail must die it would be more beneficial for it to be in the jaw of a Red fox rather than for lack of food. Skutch’s opinion on the matter is highly anthropocentric; it is based on a hierarchy of living things that humans have put into place. The black rat snake is ‘bad’ because it attacks and consumes a newborn Carolina Wren that is ‘innocent and good’. But, the snake must live as well to produce her own offspring. We can relate to birds on a more human level because we witness community, parental nourishment and guidance versus the rare glimpse of the snake lifecycle and ways of parenting. We see a snake leaving her young to fend for herself as cruel, when in all actuality it is a predetermined behavior and has been for many centuries. To understand different perspectives is to understand humanity on a deeper level. To many humans there is truth in Skutch’s argument. Understanding where this view comes from can help one who understands natural relationships to explain why and how nature has a cycle of her own.

No longer are the pines and ivy still and brown, creaking and cracking, but there is growth and movement throughout the woods. New hidden and protective habitat will form within these vines once again. As of now this area is impenetrable, so I head across the clearing to enter the other side where no tangled vines halt my exploration. I enter the pines where briar and brush has been flattened. Am I following the trail of the deer? This is a time where snow from weeks gone by would be beneficial to identify tracks, but I am content with an educated guess. I have a destination in mind. I head toward the fallen tree I laid my back upon many weeks ago when the snow caked my boots and bitter cold attempted to hinder my immersion. No longer distracted by the cold I believe I can relax of focus on nothing in particular and let the natural flow of thoughts and feelings take their course. Dense with pine needles and leaf litter for months, the forest floor is now rich beneath her top layer. Exposing the earth stirs up wonderful smells of richness, life, spring, and nutrients. This must be the scent people refer to as ‘earthy’. I know of the many smells of the wild, yet this one in particular whispers incessantly wild healthy nature. I rise from the dark and sandy soil as I remember why I entered these woods: the beautifully angled log perfect for laying. My pace quickens as I spot the fallen holly tree with her distinct spiky waxy leaves, holding on to life, surviving at the tips yet bare throughout her body. She is inviting like the last time. So I take my position and soak it all in.

Only seconds roll by as my immersion in nature is broken. The vexing problems of my own life swarm through my mind without warning. Thoughts ping pong from personal dilemmas such as my future course after graduation to the lives of friends and family far and few I have yet to catch up with. Then all at once I am aware of my thoughts. While attempting to meditate one’s mind often wanders without realization that it is doing so.  Then all at once one remembers one is trying to mediate and lets go of all those thoughts, emptying out the mind once again. I open my eyes and through the pine tops see the graceful clouds slowly swim across the blue sky. The loblolly pine deep in her grounding goes with the flow and adapts to thrive in an ever-changing world. I am not the pine nor the clouds, nor the bird, squirrel, or soil beneath my boots. I am a human unique with the gift to ponder everything. Thoughts on the past, present, and future unfold without relenting. Some days I am absolutely excited and engulfed in my surroundings, craving to witness and understand, then there are moments in which my questionable decisions eats away at my attention toward nature, almost totally distracted and aloof. A gift for sure: to allow oneself to explore worlds beyond immediate comprehension is a mind worth nurturing. I could have been born the soil forming earthworm or a beautiful orange breasted robin, but I am human and luckily able to be aware when distractions take over where my focus toward nature must be.

Walking back to the car, I notice all the young pines which seemed to have grown at least a foot in height since the fall. Healthy with bright green needles, I imagine they hope to fully mature and be part of and witness to the love and life this park brings. Nature can make one realize the full measure of one’s priorities and true place in life. To me, the forest reminds me of the natural joy that takes over as I smell the sharp citrus of the pines and physically exhaust myself to see more, feel more, and absorb the natural beauty around me. All in all, I am glad that many of my fellow humans are out and about enjoying a prevernal day in the park. It does create a difficult environment to spot critters, but I know they are there. I am comforted by the decisions many have made to depart from the closure of four walls and artificial light and to escape the screen and rat race to enjoy walking in wildlife. Here, there are people of all ages, of all backgrounds. Smiling, contemplating, sunning, and communicating. Then, bio-philia sets in; “the instinctive bond between human beings and other living systems” has been exposed after bitter months of white and gray here in Salisbury. I have hopes that the changing of the seasons and engagement with nature will allow people to be absolutely aware in the present and share kindness to the world. Nature can be harsh, but at Pemberton Park it seems to run a gentle course. Perhaps humans can take advice from nature and appreciate natural balance when exposed to chaos and a changing environment. After all, “It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see.” (Thoreau)

- Lauren McAlister

 “I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”

― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods

Bibliography

Hohne, Kari. "Chapter 15." Tao Te Ching: The Poetry of Nature. N.p.: Way of Tao, 2009. N. pag. Print.

Marchand, Peter J. Life in the Cold: An Introduction to Winter Ecology. Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 1991. Print.

Maslow, Jonathan E. Footsteps in the Jungle: Adventures in the Scientific Exploration of theAmerican Tropics. Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, 1996. Print.

Schneider, Richard J. Thoreau's Sense of Place: Essays in American Environmental Writing. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2000. Print.