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Around sixty years after the Revolutionary War soldiers marched through Price Park, slaves fleeing from bondage used the land for refuge, as it was a part of the Underground Railroad. While I am again, only drawing conclusions based on what I know about history, I believe that the relationship with the land that these slaves would have found was much more meaningful than that of the American soldiers in 1781. Given this, comparing the two based on somewhat informed imagination is very interesting to me.

Rather than chopping trees or treading heavily on grasslands, these people would have been very appreciative and aware of the nature around them. The trees within the forestry, such as American beech, red maple, and the tulip tree, would have been places to hide behind, being naturally rather large. Their age and therefore usefulness would have been estimated by the size of their circumference. While not necessarily completely aware of the land beneath their feet and what inhabits it, I would imagine that these people were not stamping into it, but rather walking lightly, an attempt at making as little noise as possible. In addition, the fact that Price Park’s landscape is specific to the southern region, and slaves at the time were largely in this same region, there was an intense familiarity with the land. While the connotations of this are certainly not positive ones, as it was forced and violent labor, this relationship with the land they inhabited was undoubtedly a strong one, full of knowledge and awareness.

There was nobody immediately available to help or heal in the case of wounds, as soldiers would have had in the form of war hospitals. Because of this, escaping slaves would have had to know which plants or natural life would aid them in case of injury or sickness. For instance, the bark of a white oak growing in Price Park would soothe as sickened stomach, the juices of the nettle leaf or the tick trefoil herb would stop the stinging of an open wound. These are the skills which come with knowing ones land on a deeper level — of appreciating what resources are available.

Similarly to the soldiers of the Revolutionary War, there was likely not a sense of peace within the forestry of Price Park. It was certainly very scary, far beyond my imagination. Yet at the same time, there was probably a sense of hope, with the knowledge that one was on the way to freedom, and ultimately a better life. I wonder how every sound, like the call of a Chimney Sweep, or the creaking of the treetops, would have an effect. Was this ever present awareness of surroundings a source of fear? Likely, but at the same time it was a source of life. One likely had to know which sound was associated with what, so that a foreign sound (a human would have been a foreign sound in that relatively untouched land), would sound like a warning signal.

Ultimately, this connection with the land provided solace. While a scary task to venture out on, these people at least had their knowledge to rely on as a sense of comfort — something that not many can or could have said for themselves.

On March 15th, 1781 — almost exactly 238 years ago, American Revolutionary War soldiers marched through Guilford County, heading towards what is now the land of Battleground Courthouse. On their way there, however, they not only marched through the Guilford College woods, but through the adjacent forests of what is now Price Park.

Not a whole lot is known about what exactly these soldiers did while on the specific land of Price Park. While this leaves a lot to the imagination, I think through a general knowledge of history and the Revolutionary War, some interesting and reasonable conclusions can be drawn.

I do not believe it is extremely likely that these soldiers were stopping to admire the beauty of the land around them. They were on their way to battle, and ultimately death for many. For this reason I don’t particularly criticize them for forgetting the natural world, but to me it is strange to imagine being in a state of mind which so much hinders the human’s experience within the natural world.

The word “march”, to me, implies something much more violent and destructive than “walk”. Interestingly, this is the world that has been used in history to describe this March 15th event. With this in mind, it makes me wonder, did these soldiers contemplate if, or what, organic matter suffered beneath the stamping uniform boots? These grasslands are just one, relatively minute example of things that may have suffered in the soldiers’ wake. I wonder how much dry wood was chopped, how many trees were killed, to produce fire and warmth given the season.

I also wonder if they set up camp at Price Park, or just marched through, barely observing or experiencing anything other than anticipation and somewhat self absorbed thoughts. If they did set up camp — what was their experience of the land? Would they have been able to take in its qualities in the dark? Did they know which plants could be eaten, and which would cause sickness or even death?

Clearly, many questions come to mind when I think about these American soldiers within Price Park years ago. It is strange for me to imagine what the land may have looked like, not to mention how one could just march straight through it so authoritatively — without much curiosity or desire to learn more. I wonder if any of these soldiers ever returned to Price Park, and if so what memories it brought up. Likely any memories it would have evoked would not be pleasant ones, as they were on their way to battle. In that respect, there are lots of things beyond my imagination or knowledge.

In all, the soldier’s experience at Price Park was in all likelihood very different from my own. When I go to the park, it is a destination for me. While there I am able to find some sort of peacefulness, and my goal is to learn more about its natural elements, what they are and what they can be used for, the animals who inhabit it, and even the human history, like that of these Revolutionary War soldiers.

I doubt the soldiers were able to find peace upon the grasslands of Price Park, or amongst the Eastern Meadowlarks. I wouldn’t imagine they were too curious about the human history there either, and even more absurdly, about the healing properties of the Chinese lespedeza, which could aid the wounds they likely accumulated.

These people, in 1781, were willingly risking their lives to claim a land — a natural world — which, in reality, they paid little to no respect for during this march to battle.

Finally venturing into the research portion of this assignment, I decided to do some fumbling around the Guilford archives. Now I personally feel like research in general is one of my weakest suits. I get so easily distracted and frustrated by not finding exactly what I want to find, I’ll just move swiftly past things that might actually be beneficial to my research. Plus, I have a lot of trouble leaving behind my preconceived notions and allowing the work to just speak for itself. For this project, I didn’t have any idea what I was really looking for. I wanted to know what the Meadows were before they were the Meadows, sure. But I also was looking for some historical context. What I did find was this map from 1917 that showed all the segmentation of the campus, labeling broad areas as “Orchard” or “Woods” or “Quad.” The Meadows was roughly in “Woods,” perhaps spilling over slightly into “Orchard” but it was hard to tell exactly. I took that information to mean that before being grass fields dotted with various pine trees, the Meadows were simply more trees?

The disc golf course that now occupies the Meadows was built in 2012, a few years after the cross country course was added to the landscape in 2009. And some of my sources tell me that the Meadows, more or less the way they are now, have been here at least since the 70s. Around the same time that the disc golf course was built, Guilford College administrators actually decided to sell a 2-acre portion of the land to a medical company. I’m pretty certain this is now Eagle Health, a facility that gives mostly free care to Guilford students. In a 2012 Guilfordian article, faculty secretary and former Greensboro zoning commission member, Janet Wright was quoted saying, “This could be a domino effect. I don’t want to see us slowly taking offers and saying we need the money and selling off parts of our land.” This is a legitimate fear, and the fact that the land ended up being sold regardless is very telling of the financial crisis facing the college and the value placed on our natural spaces over other parts of campus. Even now, we see parts of the woods being demolished for new development. This is normalized now, to see us quickly jumping to sacrifice woodlands and other natural places being sacrificed for the sake of Guilford paying off debt.

The farm, which was rebuilt in 2011, also ate up some of the land that was once part of the Meadows. The farm is certainly a necessary part of the college too. It offers students an opportunity to work in agriculture, which is extremely rare amongst our generation, and to participate in some of the food justice work that revolves around our farm. At the same time, the farm is a huge selling point for students coming to Guilford. The marketing team knows what sort of demographics it will attract and, as students at this school, we can identify what sorts of tactics were effective in getting us to come here. I know that the farm was a selling point for me. I wonder if a little extra Meadows might have had the same impact?

“I see a lot of greenery and many trees, and vines… not sure about specifics”

This excerpt from my personal notebook of observations was jotted down during my earlier ventures into the woods. Looking back, I can sense the disconnect between me and the woods. However, my observations compelled me to look beyond scientific labels and bond with the entities themselves. Now, my notebook has species names scribbled down, so this post is going to be me ascribing some value to all these titles and learning more about what species reside in the woods!

Chocolate vine (Akebia quinata)

These woody vines produce chocolate-purple flowers, hence their colloquial name: “chocolate vine”. This is an invasive species that is native to eastern Asia, and was first introduced to the United States in 1845. It doesn’t create any problems in terms of insects or diseases, but its rapid growth is not necessarily desirable.

Red bud tree (Cercis canadensis)

This was one of the first trees to flower in North Carolina and is native to the region. It has heart-shaped foliage that appears after it flowers and tends to be a smaller tree. I didn’t have a chance to see the foliage firsthand on this trip, but I plan on paying this area of the woods another visit soon! This is a very adaptable species that can flourish in a variety of soils once established. It can provide nesting spaces/supplies to birds as well as nectar to bees and other nectar-seeking species.

English Ivy (Hedera helix)

Another woody vine, English ivy is evergreen and invasive. This is yet another very adaptable species residing in the Guilford Woods. Younger plants have heart-shaped leaves with pointed lobes, while more mature plants have more narrow, lance-shaped leaves. These vines have the potential to overtake native species and block out sunlight, which endangers the wellbeing of the plants around them.

Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana)

Ah… the cedar tree that isn’t actually a cedar tree, but rather a juniper (as indicated by its scientific name). It produces the small seed cones that are characteristics of all junipers, and they happen to resemble small berries. The tree here, in particular, has a relatively tall, pyramidal shape. This evergreen has bark that shreds off in thin, fibrous strips and its wood can be used to make chests, fence posts, and rails thanks to its rot-resistant properties. Additionally, it also has a relatively high drought resistance.

Red Maple (Acer rubrum)

This deciduous tree ranges in height, but the particular one I saw was on the shorter side. I took note of the tree in the early spring when it was already flowering with small clusters of red flowers. Their wood is commercially known as soft maple and commonly used in furniture and other similar items, where it occasionally replaces hard maple (it is a cheaper alternative). These trees are native to North Carolina and their brilliant colors help indicate changing seasons as well. Younger trees have grey, smooth bark.

While several other species reside in the woods, these were a few that stuck out to me. Now that some background has been established, the next couple posts will be focusing more on my personal perspective and experiences.

See you then!

References:

https://www.invasiveplantatlas.org/subject.html?sub=10090

https://extensiongardener.ces.ncsu.edu/extgardener-redbud-hearts-of-gold-a-striking-tree-with-n-c-roots/

https://www.thoughtco.com/eastern-redcedar-common-tree-north-america-1342774

https://www.invasiveplantatlas.org/subject.html?sub=10090https://extensiongardener.ces.ncsu.edu/extgardener-redbud-hearts-of-gold-a-striking-tree-with-n-c-roots/

Leaning down and stretching, the soft skin of my fingertips brushing against the roughness of my shoes, I think back to my last visit to the lake. Making my way down to the same spot was a matter of following memory. Stepping out of my car, parked down in the rough gravel by the volleyball court, I venture down to the small cove at a brisk jog, making sure to not trip on any of the exposed roots or mud patches. It’s still relatively early in the morning, the sun only barely painting the tips of the trees above my head, and the air is brisk company for me. By the time I reach the shore of the lake where I had been a mere day ago, my mind has wandered, going through my other plans for the day. The brief glimmers of the water, glinting in gentle motion, snaps me back to my task, and I look out onto the lake.

I am greeted by the same, eye-catching sight that I was yesterday. Algae, in patches and clusters, ridden across the surface of the lake. The water in this particular portion is still, allowing the algae to float calmly and without fear of displacement.

Before me, I begin to see the connections occurring in this wild place. Everything snaps into place in my mind, and a theory begins to develop. Algae in lakes can only grow and thrive when relying on the nutrients present in the water. Too many nutrients can lead to phenomenon and events such as eutrophication and algae blooms. The algae in this particular alcove of the lake, I believe, is spurred on by the local runoff and erosion. This particular portion of the lake is location next to a gentle slope leading down from a field. When gravity takes water down this slope, it can displace and gather nutrients and particles from the soil along the way. Erosion, evident in the crumbling portion of the lakeside that I stand beside, can also contribute to adding nutrients to the water. It appears that this portion of the lake has succumbed to a state of overflowing nutrient levels, prompting the growth of the algae that catches my eyes in this early morning.

The biological surroundings of this portion of the lake might also have something to do with the murky state of the water. In this water peninsula, as I believe it is appropriate to call it (it is surrounded by land on three sides), there are many trees, of different sizes, shapes, and shades, hanging over the water, depositing a stray leaf into the lake from time to time. While it’s not pollution, the addition of organic matter into water can further serve to throw off mineral balance.

This post is vastly different from all of the others that I have written before it. While I normally tell a story of a trip to the lake and its surrounding landscape, with natural elements worked in, I decided to focus on a specific detail that I found to be fascinating in this blog post. While I will most likely revert back to storytelling in my next posts, this was, in my mind, a welcome change of pace. Until next time…

The majority of my experiences in the woods thus far have consisted of me wandering around, relatively clueless about the details that lay in the midst of the landscape. This sense of unfamiliarity allowed me to simply be within the location, to understand the larger forces at play and find a feel for the world around me.

However, when presented with an opportunity to venture outdoors as a class and begin identifying some of the species in the woods, I was ecstatic! Coming into the world of nature writing daunted me because I never felt knowledgeable enough to write about a location and do its natural features true justice, and I had hopes of starting to reverse that mentality during this walk. Strolling into the chilly day jolted me awake from my half-asleep state. This is one of my favorite transitions, the blossoming of spring. This is the time when the temperatures become more bearable, but pollen has yet to blanket every still object in sight. People always pick favorite seasons and kinds of weather as they attempt to funnel every intricate natural phenomenon into massively generalized categories. I never understood this… why do we always ignore what happens in these natural transitions? Being present outside during this time was invigorating (especially since it was my only refuge from a day otherwise filled with exams).

Our rather large group encountered fresh cedar wood, the slightly damp grass, and headed towards the Guilford Woods. We passed around a small block of the cedar wood, taking in its sharp, earthy scent. The first leg of our walk consisted of stops along the way to identify some of the white and Live Oaks in and around the Quad, eventually coming to a stop near the Guilford Lake. I captured the image of the reflective surface of the water in my mind, making a mental note to revisit the location on my own time.

Near the entrance, we identified a few different types of trees, including the maple trees along the path. Maple trees provide wood that is often used to produce various musical instruments as well as furniture items. We also passed by a gorgeous Sweetgum tree. While this type of tree can also be used for lumber, seeing it made me go back in time to memories of crisp fall weather and intense colors bursting through the fallen foliage. The tree today was relatively bare, preparing to host its leaves and carry their green hue, symbolizing a season of rebirth and renewal. Walking past these trees, we funneled into a more obscure trail leading into the woods in order to further immerse ourselves in the setting and encounter new species that I’ll discuss more in my next post!

My nose is stuffy. I see on the recent newscast where a photographer captured all the insane amounts of pollen on camera. I think to myself, “Nature, you’re already starting to play pranks on me?” I see where almost every tree and living thing in nature around me is becoming back alive; after multiple rainstorms, unstable weather temperatures fluctuating, and our own species abusing it. I’m starting to speak on behalf of nature in a positive better way because nature is alive. Trees are living things. The White Oak tree in my place doesn’t express emotion, but the imagery of it expresses what all it has been through. Multiple wounds from the storms and green leaves are alive again. Nature heals itself after the storm; this is not because anybody told it to or demanded it. Nature simply does this by itself. The reflection of nature I place onto myself because as it turns out, we are not so different. I’ve chosen to heal because it’s my choice. I chose to take care of myself not because nobody told me to, because I wanted to.

There are old dried up leaves on the ground. If I tried to count all of them, I would simply lose my mind. You can tell my place has been through a lot, but yet it is still there. I start to admire the strength of nature. We tend to put it through hell. We are so busy with the media and our phones, we start to ignore the simple things like avoiding to use plastic bottles as much. We start to lose ourselves because of mediocre comparisons portrayed by the media. We underestimate what all of us have been through. I believe nature doesn’t make these comparisons. Nature doesn’t try to compare traumas. Nature is still. Nature is graceful.

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Nature needs to be protected however. The Guilford Woods is a historical place that should be preserved, however, we have to be proactive. From Guilford College Woods for Preservation, I got the following information about recommendations. The historical plaques for locations had been pointed out. There was much more encouragement for individuals to interact and get to know The Guilford College Woods. A sense of awareness was brought in to encourage the community to dive into the woods. Guilford College wants first years specially to get to know the woods, and this is through guided tours, First Year Experience Presentations, and so forth. Guilford wants to allow people to continue walking through the trails also for the benefits of their health. However, the issue of waste management was still an issue. Therefore, trash and recycle bins in the woods were most defitenly encourages to decrease the presence of litter.

If you didn’t read the last post, this is a continuation of my first journey around the side of the lake closest to the Guilford College gym, a place that I’d never witnessed in its entirety until today.

After witnessing the graffiti and markings present on the small hut by the water, it should have come as no shock to me that the other man-made object that I had spotted from afar was also covered. The triangular prism, well over 6 feet tall, stands out against the gentle grass in the meadow behind it. From behind the monument I can see the far edges of the lake, the trees and sun reflecting off of its surface. There is no defined path going to the lake’s edge, and so I plan my steps carefully, looking down with every footstep or two in order to avoid a wandering snake. As I get closer to the water, the plants by my feet begin to crawl slowly upwards, brushing against my calves in places as I traverse onward. The landscape on this edge of the lake is not unalike its opposite shore, with a grassy patch giving way to a sandy area and a clear entrance point to the water.

Finally at the edge of the water, I begin to notice that the similarities between here and the opposite shore are even more pronounced than I thought. Two geese wander around in the sandy/dirty area, searching the ground eagerly for tasty morsels. These geese are seemingly accustomed to human contact, and they don’t shy away from me as I make my way around them. The water on the shore to my right is murky, disguised by a layer or muck and algae. However, I don’t let this unsettling view distract me from the quiet beauty of this nook of the lake in front of me. Were it not for the frisbee players yelling in the background, this area would be the perfect place to settle down and relax, watching as ripples gently shake the surface of the lake. As I watch the geese, bumblebees dance around me, playful in their flight patterns as they buzz around the world. Seeing life from their perspective would be such an interesting thing; being able to travel quickly, zooming and dipping through the air at will. As I stand among these creatures in this natural place, I take note of the shoreline. Erosion is almost definitely an issue here, as shown by both the murky water and the state of the shore surrounding it.

This is the point where I ran out of time for the day. Having gone further away than normal from any available parking, I have to hassle back the way I came, flying past landmarks that I’ve just become acquainted with as I try desperately not to trip. Visiting this side of the lake has provided me with both a fuller view of the lake and its structure as well as a hint of inquiry. I want to know more about this lake, the shoreline, and what lies beyond. Maybe next time…

In my first few visits to the lake, I’ve noticed a pattern: I almost always stick to the side of the lake that I’m most familiar with, venturing down the same set of beaten paths. In the next series of blogs detailing my adventures, I am going to seek to change this.

As I’m sure I have discussed on this blog before, one of my favorite pastimes is to head to the volleyball court outside of the Guilford College gym in order to relax with my friends. Having been to that location almost a hundred times over the course of the last year and a half, it’s a miracle that I’ve only ever used the connection to the lake from it twice. Now that I’ve been blogging my lake adventures, I figured that I should take a better look.

From the volleyball courts, I took a gander down a gentle slope, gravel crunching under my shoes as I make my way to the grassy, natural area around the lake. Almost immediately I see the water, glistening in the late afternoon sun. While no official path greets me at this point, there are markings of trails well worn in by the foot falls of countless people before me. Continuing in their footsteps, I march onward, coming to the view seen above. Through the crook in the tree, its scaly bark pulling my eyes away every few seconds, I can make out bits and pieces of the lake that I’ve come to know: the sandy beach, the gravel path, and the Muscovy ducks. As I watch from afar, I see one of the Muscovy ducks dive into the water, flinging droplets in every which way as it careens through the water. I’ve never actually seen one of the ducks in the water, due to both biology and nature, and I regret that I have to witness it from afar. By the lake’s shore, a dogwood tree (I think) blooms early, its delicate white buds nipped by the gentle breeze of the afternoon. I’m more alert than usual, my senses perked by the new environment.

Continuing forward, I pick up the sounds of the game of ultimate frisbee going on to my right in the elevated field. On my left, a small hut stands solitary, covered in markings and graffiti left by those that have visited in prior years. The distinct images marred onto the hut provide a harsh contrast to the natural beauty and peace of the lake behind it. While I’m not sure if I appreciate the nature of the art, it certainly provides a unique look to my viewpoint. In my opinion, this image might perfectly sum up the environment of the lake: natural, yet not. Wild, yet man-made. A few minutes of though reveal the contrasts and peculiarities that make the lake and its surrounding woods such a wonderful place.

It is here that I must end this post, although my discoveries for the day did not end at the hut. Being my longest time at my location so far, I decided that the events deserved two posts. Catch you in the next one!