Freedman
“The lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are still truly adjusted to each other.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Nature,” 1836.
Nature. It can be almost anything outdoors, offering peace and scenery, serenity, felt and observed alone, shared by groups, just you and wildlife, you and birds, or just you inhaling.
Lock the mind closed against work worries. Lock out traffic noise. Nature seems to forbid rushing around or swarms of people clustered together, unless they are hushed.
For centuries, people have built up a skyscraper world, then tried to escape from it. Our souls still crave nature.
The Cambridge Dictionary definition of nature is “all the animals, plants, rocks in the world, and all the features, forces and processes that happen or exist independently of people.”
A microcosm of nature is found in our national and state parks, and conveniently just down the road from us in Muscatatuck National Wildlife Refuge.
On a silent morning in the trees, ducks and geese swam on Richart Lake, deer hid in the woods, autumn leaves going yellow, orange and red fell from limbs and piled up on the grounds.
President Theodore Roosevelt, called “the conservationist president,” left us the National Wildlife Refuge system and the Seymour refuge draws those seeking refuge.
“People love getting out in this weather,” ranger Donna Stanley said of a sunny and crisper day than humid summer ones or cold winter ones. “They’re looking for wildlife. Most of the folks are just getting out to enjoy nature. It’s a great time to be outside and looking at things.”
Really, any time is. Don’t underestimate what the mind and body glean by challenging the elements. Walk a few miles into the wind, with snow blowing in your face and feel more alive than at any other time. Though comparatively few court the circumstance, it is possible to be contemplative in the midst of stormy weather.
“Communing with nature” is a phrase researchers date at least to 1782 and was included in poems written in the 1830s by Edgar Allan Poe and William Wordsworth. It is vague, yet purposeful and all-encompassing, without boundaries.
Muscatatuck, an Algonquin Native American word, means “land of winding waters.” Muscatatuck became the first Indiana refuge in 1966 because of its wetlands and is one of more than 565 refuges nationwide.
“Wetlands are the main reason Muscatatuck is here,” Stanley said.
The 7,724 acres is managed for wildlife habitat preservation. There are nine miles of roads and also backwoods hiking trails to explore.
Besides some 280 bird species that live on the refuge or pass through annually, including sandhill cranes, a visitor may see deer, raccoons, possum, rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, turkeys, otters, beaver, coyotes, or possibly a bobcat.
Marilyn Hurst of Columbus, greets many when they enter the Visitors Center. When the sandhills are out of season, people want to know what unusual birds might be around.
Fishing is a draw. Doug and Cathy Brown of Columbus had hooks in the water at Lake Linda, which is wheelchair accessible via a paved path, an important element for Cathy.
“I’ve been fishing the refuge for 30 years,” Doug Brown said. Once, he caught 50 bluegill through the ice in a day.
The water spread before them and trees stood tall on the far shore, as well as behind them.
“It’s beautiful,” Cathy Brown said. “Everything looks untouched.”
Maybe that is what all of us communing with nature are looking for – an America the way it was before we touched it.
The Browns are an older couple. On this same day, third graders from Hayden Elementary School were introduced to nature at Muscatatuck via a video, lectures, and a short hike.
Programs are scheduled to educate youngsters young, so they grow up with appreciation for such places, relate to nature, and catalogue good experiences so they might become allies in whatever fight lies ahead for preservation.
Speaking of potential fights, endangered species make everyone ponder. “Who knows what extinct means?” Stanley asked one of the two groups of about 15 kids. A surprising two-thirds did.
For the kids, it was a grand field trip outside the classroom. They were enveloped by nature at Muscatatuck, the birds winging past, the bigger game ghostly in the thick woods featuring tall trees present on the spot for hundreds of years.
You didn’t have to be a kid to walk unexpectedly into wonders of nature, either.
Christian Fontanez, 28, who had lived half his life in Seymour, said he likely drove past the Refuge entrance on Route 50 a thousand times without realizing what was around the corner. It was probably just another small, city park, Fontanez figured, until he discovered the small sign out front was like the cover of a book, inviting him in.
Stanley has worked at Muscatatuck for 40 years, but never wearies of its pleasures. As part of her job, she routinely walks the grounds.
Stanley also lives so close by she can sit on her front porch, drink coffee, and gaze at her outdoor office, marveling at the sturdy, old trees, just communing with nature.
