Month: April 2019

During my last visit to the Uwharrie Mountains, I stopped inside the natural history museum that sits at the foot of the trail, free for anyone to amend their curiosities about what the Uwharrie contain. Much of the natural history museum is dedicated to the human history of the area, but this post will be focused on the animals and other critters that inhabited the area long before, and likely long after humans.

The first thing you see on your left when entering is a heavy duty microscope that is there for folks to play with! There are small specimens that you can place under the eyepiece at your leisure, and also dead bugs in little petri dishes that you can take a look at. This microscope is definitely kid friendly, so its a great place for everyone to satisfy their curiosities about the littlest creatures among us.

Looking at the dragonfly wing and the bumblebee was really interesting. You got to see up close the intricate ways in which the wings attach to their thoraxes, the patterns on them, the thickness of individual hairs or antennae. It was a really wonderful way to get immediately engaged in the creatures around us in an intimate and safe way.

Then, as you move along the wall, there are photos of many creatures that live in the area, what they do, and how they contribute to the environment there. The little critters were some we are probably familiar with: possums, ticks and mosquitoes, barred owls, milipedes, bumblebees, and many more. Some of the less familiar creatures might be:

Green lYnx Spider (peucetia viridans)

Brown Headed Cowbird (molothrus ater)

Northern Rough Green Snake (opheodrys aestivus aestivus)

Spotted salamander (ambystoma maculatum)

All of these species are integral to the organizational life-sustaining systems of the Uwharrie area.  

My only wish that was unmet for this visit to the Uwharrie was that I had been able to see some of these critters while I was there. I managed to see this little scurrying salamander pause in the sun to warm up for a moment (photo) but overall, my visit was barren of any life other than humans and a couple gnats going after my banana here and there.

I was surprised — I didn’t even hear squirrels scuttling in the brush or clawing their way up the trees; there were no mosquitos buzzing in my ear; there were no ants that chased after the crumbs of my turkey sandwich.

Quite frankly, this was eerie. I had just visited a museum that boasted thee diversity and richness of life, and yet it was nowhere to be found, not even with the insects there!

But perhaps this is exactly the human dilemma: going to a natural space and expecting it to cater to what you want to see and experience there. This is generally unrealistic, especially when considering I was hiking on a major hiking trail where there were lots of others out enjoying their Saturday. In reflection, I hope to come away from later experiences with less disappointment in what I didn’t see, and more appreciation for what I was allowed to see.

I’m on my two feet. I attempt to let go of any negative presumptions of the world around me and judgemental thoughts. I’m allowing myself to be engaged in the world around me. I hear my fellow peers laughing going down the gravel road, rain from the past storm dripping from the leaves to the ground, and the sound of a squirrel going up the tree. I unfold myself like I would a piece of paper; you can see where I am creased from being set in my ways before, and you can see where I am wrinkled up from damage that has been done before. I have scars, and I wear them like a trophy; it’s just like I won a war. I don’t try to hide them anymore, because in Japan broken objects are often repaired with gold. Nobody is ashamed of gold. I let myself be open, and I accept I am free. My past and medical records are something I can’t unsee. I acknowledge my struggles and bring them to the light. I’m allowing myself to be vulnerable in this moment, because before I hid behind doctors doors & pharmaceuticals.

The Guilford Woods is my place where I am connecting with, and I’m connecting more with nature every day. Just today I found myself pausing even on the sidewalk because I thought the leaves blowing in the wind sounded beautiful. A few months ago, I would’ve been running to my car not paying attention. I’ve had this disconnection with nature I never really acknowledged because I was never connected in the first place. I have a rough health history I’ve had since a child. After you’re missing one and a half of your two kidneys, your parents want to keep eyes on you at all times. Everything becomes cautionary. Doctors are wanting you as a kid to stay inside the classroom or sit on a bench, while everything in me wanted to be like the rest of the kids. I acknowledge my health seperated my own relationship with nature. So, I am finding ways to connect with the outside world at twenty one years old. I may be off to a late start, but I think I have a pretty good excuse.

Connecting with nature also involves acknowledging what happened in my place before I got there. I’m taking a look at the history of my place, and I find information about the Quakers interesting. Quakers have found a relationship with Guilford Woods and The Underground Railroad. According to The Guilford College Woods: Assessment, Planning, and Recommended Strategies for Preservation, Quakers of Society of Friends had worry about the issue regarding the failure of ending the act of slavery; this was a big deal in the past and much disagreement was present. The clear light was given that slavery was in-humane and they would not be part of this act. 

[The 2019 reenactment of the Battle of Guilford Courthouse occurred not on the national military parklands but in the neighboring Greensboro Country Park and Forest Lawn Cemetery. Additionally, some of the encampments of the reenactors and some of the reenactment events happened on historic battlefield lands just not the battle reenactment itself.]

From Rememberance to Reenactment

Just as the public grew enamored with monumentalizing the overgrown woods and farmlands where once battles of the American Revolution occurred, so too did the American public become fascinated with reenacting the battles in which their ancestors fought, around the time of America’s bicentennial. Beginning in the early 1960s, hobbyists across the United States crafted clothing and equipment, reproducing the 18th and 19th century. Still today, many passionate hobbyists reenact the battles of the American Revolution dressed as soldiers and citizens from the 18th century.

During the mid-20th century there was certainly a shift between monumentalizing the past like Schenck and Morehead strove to accomplish, and the need for Americans to relive the past. Even now, the controversial issue of Civil War monuments divided this nation though little attention has been drawn to the monuments of the American Revolution. Like the Revolution itself, these monuments seem also a thing of the past. Reenactors strive to bring the past back to life by living as though in the 18th century during events on the weekends, reenacting as a spectacle for the American public. I see it as the evolution of honoring the past in the 21st Century.

Simulated Violence in a Cemetery

For the Battle of Guilford Courthouse reenactment the encampments are held in Country Park and on the National Park lands while the battle itself is held in the Forest Lawn Cemetery. It strikes me as ironic that contemporary hobbyists dressed as soldiers in the 18th century reenact a 200 year old battle in a cemetery. Since the Battleground is in part owned by the federal government, reenactments are forbidden from taking place on federally owned land (aside from a few exceptions including the Gettysburg reenactment).

Playing Hessian

My observance of the reenactment, aside from my considerable interest and entertainment, resulted from a film that I made regarding the reenactors participating in the Battle of Guilford Courthouse who portrayed the Hessian Regiment von Bose. (During the American Revolution, Hessians were German soldiers fighting for the British military). In my time spent with the Hessian reenactors, I encountered nearly a dozen of them, two of which were approximately my age. I noticed a common thread between the reenactors. Many of the reenactors got involved because of an interest in their family ancestry and participated with their families, something that really struck me as intriguing. null

This time around I wanted to do something different. I wanted to see what the other side of the park was like. Since day one I’ve mainly kept to everything that’s right of the library if you’re entering and it got me thinking about what’s on the other side, the side I’ve heard and seen so little of. So after parking my car near an absolutely beautiful Porsche Cayman S, I headed left to see what, if anything, was back there just waiting to be discovered. Needless to say, while there wasn’t much, there is quite a bit to talk about. 

At first glance I noticed another vast field like the one near the parking lot, complete with grass of multiple different shades as the cloudy but somewhat clear skies faintly shined down on the patch. In a strange way the cloudy atmosphere made it only more beautiful as it outlined the vastness and color variety of the land. When examining the Price Park management plan on the subject of the field, it appears that many of its rules and history are tied to that of the other field. The grass can be a real pain to mow and controlled burns haven’t been ruled out as an option if things ever got too out of hand for the crew. But beyond that there just wasn’t much to talk about with the fields. They were beautiful but definitely weren’t going to win any popularity contests. 

And so, I ventured a little further and stumbled upon a real gem of the park in the form of a swamp within the field. Strangely enough I couldn’t find anything on it, but it looked like the recent rainfall had really done a number on it. It was sludgy, puddles were everywhere and the trees around it were skinny with not a leaf in sight. The only other real thing of note were these weeds that popped up all along the trail, but all I could find on them was the fact that butterflies seem to like them. 

I think this really goes to show that I’m getting used to the park and as we near the end of the blog project I’m nearing the end of discovering its secrets. The park has been a great place to unwind when it need be and really helped me reconnect with nature since arriving at the school. What I’ve found the most fascinating about the experience is the fact that I can never really predict what parts of the park I’m gonna like. I just have to head over, scope it out and then sit down and get a feel for the area. In the case of the stream, I had seen it before but not until I actually sat down one morning and watched it did I realize it was my absolute favorite part of the park. That’s an important thing to know about yourself, because it can inspire you to try new things and work outside your comfort zone, something I’ve been doing a lot of recently. With two posts left and just a couple weeks till the deadline I’m sure I’ll be making another one of these very soon, hopefully with more to talk about. But that’s all for now folks.

Now, it’s time to get into the main reason why I had gone on that walk all those days ago in the first place: visiting the Underground Railroad tree. Leaving this side of the woods to enter the Underground Railroad Educational Trail was a sharp awakening from my peaceful, trance-like state.

The natural world had blended seamlessly together, with the air, water, and greenery living in perfect harmony, yet this road cut through it all. The clearing on the other side leading to the trail is not particularly striking on its own: it houses the same pines, oak trees, and beech trees as the other stretch of land. Continuing down the trail, passing several fallen trees, tangled roots, and crunching the dry leaves scattering the ground, I could not hope to possibly know the story of each tree I found laid to rest in its home. I felt entirely surrounded as all of my senses were presented with the serenity of my surroundings: the bird calls in the air and the rustling of leaves underneath.

This tree, a tulip poplar dating back before the 1800s, bore witness to the operation of the Underground Railroad from 1819 to 1852. The tree is the epitome of freedom and the perfect symbol of resilience, and it stands tall at the end of the 0.3-mile trail, with a relatively new viewing platform built in front of it. Given the inherently secretive nature of the Underground Railroad, the blueprints are not available, but the earliest documented case was that of John Dimery in 1819. Levi Coffin (later popularly designated as “President of the Underground Railroad”) and his cousin Vestal Coffin collaborated in this effort, and the Quakers within the New Garden community did their part by establishing a base for support for the escaping fugitives.

This racially integrated civil rights movement was among the first of its kind and spoke to the compassion of the Quaker community and the importance of these woods in offering refuge to all. Confronting this bearer of history is a powerful moment. The modern world rarely affords us the opportunity to stand still and reflect on the sacrifices that allow us to live fulfilling lives today, yet the woods gave me an opportunity to look inwards and understand the gravity of the moment. Glancing upwards to the sky, I was temporarily blinded by the Sun that decided to come back out, but soon I had the chance to view the massive tulip poplar in all its glory. It stood strong among the thinner trees surrounding it, the wise aged leader of the group. The viewing platform and its considerable size seemed to be the only thing that set the tree apart— the trees around it had not been cleared in an effort to make it a more appealing landmark. It is still in its natural, relatively undisturbed habitat. The platform itself blended into the woods relatively well.

It was raised a few meters above and in front of the tulip poplar and fitted with a minimalistic sign introducing the tree and providing a convenient QR code linked to useful information. Although it was likely unintentional, it was fascinating to see the presence of the technological world in the midst of this old growth forest, like a fusion of present day with history. This walk taught me a lot about the story of this place, and I can’t wait to come back!

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In our quests to traverse wooded areas, our focus is often on the giant oaks, birches, and other plants and trees that seem to look down upon us, as well as the greenery we may glimpse at eye level, without paying much thought to the surfaces we walk on. This post will describe the mats of greenery one would walk on around the woods (en route to the lake) and in the surrounding hills. Finding the particular species of grass was no easy task, though geographic limitations posed a good place to start, due to North Carolina’s diverse experience of all four seasons. There are two varieties of grass species grown in North Carolina, which include cool-season grasses and warm season grasses.

According to the NC State Cooperative Extension, warm-season grasses grow best in the summer, while cool-season grasses tend to grow best in the spring and fall, staying green throughout winter. Guilford’s running trails use Bermuda grass, a warm-season grass that is extremely drought resistant and recovers quickly from wear and traffic. If you’re ever considering what grass to use for a particular area, it’s definitely important to understand the type of land, which region you’re in, and whether the area gets a lot of foot traffic. The grass near the lake, on the other hand is a tall fescue grass, which is a cool-season grass that provides a lawn that stays green year-round (though not uniform, due to the varieties of crab grass present). It tolerates moderate foot traffic, is fairly resistant to drought, and can survive with very little maintenance. Springing out of both grasses include spots of daffodils, the root of which can be used to make tea, and clusters of buttercups. Whenever I see the buttercups, I remember elementary school, when we used to place the tender, bright blooms under our chins to see the tiny glow that would reflect. Small purple flowers like stars, called speedwell, are one among these weeds and are known to spread very quickly, but each flora is more than its label as a “weed.”

Other than considering the minutiae of grass species, it is simply mesmerizing to behold how organisms and micro-organisms utilize it in the constant food chain. Both muscovy ducks and geese, which will be described in a later post, consume the grass as a secondary source of food, and their excretions fertilize the soil, which in turn grows more grass. The ground on the banks of the lake, beside the swings, no longer have grass or dark soil; rather, it has been covered by sand, possibly due to the erosion of said soil. However, in a stark contrast to the dirt and grass that cover the actual areas of the forest and lake area, the pathway from the beginning of George Fox Road to the Counseling Center, Pines, and the Dean’s House, along with the subdivision on the other side is entirely made of gravel, which is beneficial when it rains because it doesn’t become as slushy as the areas with dirt and grass.

Instead, giant puddles, dodged by runners and dog-walkers alike, encompass large portions of the path during those times. Some drivers on the path, like my mother, are rendered irate by the cacophony created by the pieces of gravel hitting the car, other walkers are found shaking stones out of their shoes, but that well worn path is sought continuously regardless, by Pines residents returning from a long day of class, weary students seeking solace from the Counseling Center, and the Provost, Frank Boyd, as he returns back from a long day of work. Meanwhile, the grass folds and crinkles as ducks, geese, and various organisms alike trudge across, through rain and shine.