A lot of humanity in one place

For most of 2020, visiting a local forest preservewasmy daily M.O. All advice said to stay home or venture out only for doctor appointments or food shopping. And if you must get out, go to fresh air. That made sense. I took refuge inmy local preserve.

That is, until late spring/early summer, when district officials imposedCOVID-19 regulations. Drive-inswere not allowed, so I found options farther away.

By late June, Iwas able to return: Bring the newspaper, park in a shady spot, read. Roll down the windows to let breezes find me. Kick back towatch bikers, baby pushers, walkers, runners, skaters and dogs, dogs, dogs. Get out andwalk a bit. Trace the edges of a meadow, walk the road or path to the river, then onto the bridge to watch ducks duck.

Andwatch the people. One large and obviously connected group showed up daily. A lady whowalks regularly drives down fromWisconsin— because she lived in the area once. One family came with two hammocks. Kid-occupied, they hung on opposing limbs of a tree. Which left me somewhat concerned. But all survived, including the tree. A young couple on the grass. The girlwent off on some quest; he sat there, hunched over, watching something, watching, and still hewatched. Finally he got up to catch up with his companion. I flagged him. “Whatwere you watching?” He led me to a caterpillar. Special caterpillars call out to special people!

But the sprightly guy making rounds with a plastic bag and hooked stickwas obvious. Yes, he comes here regularly to clean up, stab at plastic, trash some trash. Burger boxes in the milkweed bother him. Likes to do his part.

Not to mention the occasional deer bounding fromtree line to tree line. A varied community, indeed. When you get home, you knowyou’ve had a change of place!

— BarbaraA. Mendelsohn, Niles