It is a seemingly endless tract of lights, malls, housing developments, and highways that stretch from Washington to Philly to NYC to Boston. Human impact is even evident many miles above the earth, where the bright splash of light in nighttime satellite images easily identifies this industrialized corner of the globe.
Yet even amidst the sprawl of one of the busiest, most developed areas on the planet, there remains areas of natural beauty and solitude. My home is 40 miles north of Philadelphia and 90 miles west of NYC in the Unami Creek Valley. It is a boulder strewn, heavily wooded area that is largely unchanged since the time when the Lenape Indians roamed these same woods.
Contrary to the dark and threatening place depicted in fables and movies, to me the forest has always been an inviting and welcoming place. More than just a refuge, however, these woodlands offer contrast and balance to the surrounding urban sprawl. It is a place where the sound of a hunter’s gunshot coexists with the distant rumble of a tractor trailer on the turnpike. Where you are as equally likely to see a great heron or eagle as a traffic helicopter.