Artistry in nature

By Beth Sullivan

Nature has always inspired me, and in many different ways. For centuries artists have been inspired by great vistas: far horizons, mountains, oceans, sky-scapes and sweeping prairies. We still are.

Seeing the visual beauty, artistry in nature up close, takes a little more effort - stopping, bending, stooping, kneeling - but brings great rewards. The area we live in is blessed with beautiful scenery, just begging to be photographed and painted. Sometimes though, this tends to make us see the forest, and not the trees, or the bark and the buds on the trees. The very closeness of nature is often astounding in in its beauty, texture, patterns. You just HAVE to look close.

Even in the winter woods, this evergreen Rattlesnake Orchid displays its beautifully patterned leaves.

Carpenter Ants leave a honeycomb of beautifully made chambers.

So this week I challenge you to look closer than the forest, look closer than the tree. The winter is actually a good time to look beyond the distraction of beautiful flowers that come later. Now is the time to see some of the “bones” of the landscape: trees, rocks, ice and snow. There are also hardy green mosses, lichens, and evergreens to find if you are not happy with gray tones. As you walk along a trail or even in your own yard, look for those inspiring things that you might otherwise miss if you always look to the farther horizon. If you are so inclined, try to capture the close-up with a camera, or make a sketch. You need to really look close, dissect the elements, understand how your subject is created, if you plan to sketch or paint. Once you do, you will never forget it.





Spend some time to go slowly and look very close. It may truly influence how you take your walks forever. Have fun.

The heart of a cedar tree. Every center is unique.

Ice that forms on shallow water along brooks and puddles often makes very special designs. 

Look at this in multi-levels - the color of the stones, the transparency of the water, and the patterns the water makes. A challenge to paint.

Looking to Spring, we wait for the Fiddleheads to unfurl their beautiful spirals. 

Sometimes a pattern reveals a secret- that the rows of holes were made by a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker.

Photographs by Beth Sullivan.

After the storm

by Beth Sullivan

Winter storms can be just as bad as summer ones: wind, storm surge, precipitation and clean up. So far we have been really lucky that our winter has been fairly calm and not too stormy, weather wise at least. The last week has brought some swings in the weather and a pretty good storm.

In general, these weather events are really just part of nature’s cycles, an opportunity to “clean house” or change things up a little. Sometimes we can just go with it, let things happen as they should and not try to change any outcomes. But as stewards of the land we have protected for you, we have a responsibility to make things safe as well. This last storm was by no means the worst we have experienced in recent years, but it was enough to rearrange things a bit.

After the storm, we need to walk the trails and check for issues.

Wet land plants adapt to seasonal flooding.

High Water

Many of our preserves have lovely streams running through them. Often times it is those streams that are the impetus for us wanting to protect the land around them. The drought that lasted through summer and into the fall dried them down to mere trickles. Over the last few months we have had enough rain to fill them more, to restore much needed water to the plants in the wetlands. This storm with volumes of heavy rain drained off the land, collected the way watersheds do, and the brooks filled to flooding. Overflowing their banks, wetlands were drowned, but they are used to that. It is what they are supposed do: buffer and soak and hold the water. Unfortunately some shallow rooted trees were toppled as the soil loosened their roots, and the winds pushed and pulled at them. Sometimes this is good, the shallow depressions created where the roots pulled up often fill with water and can become little refuges for amphibians and reptiles. Deeper holes create great hollows for denning mammals.

A leaning tree has provided a den area.

In the forests, downed trees and branches may be a little unsightly, but they create layers in the under story. Perches, hiding places and ultimately the material will break down to become part of the nutrient duff on the forest floor-recycling for the next generation. It is a nice metaphor: one older generation making way, in a positive fashion, to make sure things are nourished and supported as the next generation steps in.

Trees blocking bridges need to be moved as soon as possible.

Clearing the trails

Along the woodland trails we have to be on the lookout for any fallen or hanging limbs and branches that could impact a visitor, literally. Teams of stewards have branched out over the last couple of days to clear trails, assess threats and report back where more effort and bigger tools may be needed. In the meantime please be careful anywhere you walk.

Some trail blockages are not dangerous, just inconvenient.

Coastal areas were hammered by high water and waves. The natural salt marshes flooded, but absorbed the strength and surge. The high water wrack line was left with litter; the fragile edges of the marsh may have broken off in places, but in general, thanks to the natural function of a salt marsh, the land is mostly intact.

At Dodge Paddock,  channel and grasses held though the logs were bared.

At Dodge Paddock, the challenge continues. While the rains flooded in from one side, the tides pushed in from the other. Everything filled up. The drainage ditch was compromised a bit. Erosion took place along the south face where all the eel grass got scoured away. But most of the coir log supports held; the grasses that were rooted held on as well. The new marsh grasses stayed firm, collected sediment and functioned as they should. The water drained out as it was intended. The system needs a bit of a touch up, but so far, so good.

Fresh and salt water flooded Dodge Paddock. Photo by Jeff Callahan.

Storms will happen; changes in the landscape will occur. Sometimes we can let nature take its course, sometimes we have to intervene a bit. We must always find a balance, and that is part of the job of stewardship. And stewardship of our environment needs support from everyone from boots on the ground, to top administration.

Photographs by Beth Sullivan, unless otherwise indicated.

A new era

By Beth Sullivan

We welcomed the New Year. We all knew there were changes and challenges ahead. We have begun a new era.

This blog may be my voice, but it represents Avalonia Land Conservancy and many varied voices, so it is not appropriate for it to be a platform for my thoughts about women’s rights, all human rights; the value of life, all lives; the need for affordable and accessible health care; the right to be whoever you want to be and be with whomever you choose in your life. Because it all boils down to happiness and security, respect for one another and peaceful co-existence in our world. For many of us being out in Nature, in all her beautiful variable forms, is what brings us to peace and happiness. It can be a common ground for so many, despite differences in views.

Children understand the need to turn to nature...

Therefore it is supremely important that we all agree at least, that protection of our environment is something we must support together.

A changing climate

There are always going to be differences of opinions as to cause, but there should be no dissent in the understanding that our climate is changing, and with it comes perilous consequences.

...to experience joy...

If you live near the coast, you are more aware of the sea levels rising, changes in storm intensity and losses of our valuable salt marshes. These changes threaten more than the high-end real estate along the coast, but the protection afforded to all, by the open spaces, undeveloped land, marshes, and dunes. They must be preserved.

...to experience simple love...

Living inland more, you may notice the changes in our weather patterns in how it affects our gardening season. We are in the middle of a January thaw that has been quite long already. Winter seems to have started late, was pretty intense for short periods as we were blasted by extreme arctic air. If it continues like it did last year, the cold and erratic weather may push itself farther into spring, blasting flower buds confusing plants and insects and birds and crops. If it affects us in a small way in our home gardens, image how it affects the larger scale farms and orchards.

...and to learn to work together.

We have had drought and higher heat for several summers. We have watched lawns and gardens and small ponds and large lakes dry up. It leads to many of us using water to irrigate to save our cherished plants or vegetable gardens we tend so hopefully. Yet that draws on dwindling water resources and the combined effect is draining our reservoirs each year.

We must pass on our values.

At times I find it hard to think much beyond our local area. How do we influence the greater policies, how do we voice our concerns or make those voices heard?

We must teach respect, cooperation, and tolerance.

Connecticut Land Conservation Council

We can personally engage in practices that preserve resources. We can work to preserve or manage the landscapes in our own areas one step at a time. We can support organizations like Avalonia or the Nature Conservancy and many others, that pool resources to work for a greater good. Supporting organizations like the Connecticut Land Conservation Council is one of the best ways. The organization is staffed with brilliant, dedicated people who know the issues, who know how to use their voices, and our voices, and know how to direct them to those who make the rules, set the policies to make a difference. We can join our voices to theirs as they advise us how to reach those in power.

We need to act to preserve that which brings us peace.

We need to be kind. Kind to each other, kind to the Earth. We have a moral obligation to protect and preserve and steward our land and the environment as a whole, for the health of the whole planet and the future generations. It sounds trite. But it is true. If we think and act with kindness and consideration in all things….maybe it will trickle up.

And, by uniting our voices, they will be heard.

Photographs by multiple contributors.

Winter (?) Woods

by Beth Sullivan

January has the reputation for being a little fickle with a tendency to have a “January Thaw” somewhere near the end. Lately Mother Nature’s mood swings have been a bit more drastic, and all happening in a week’s time.

Last weekend we were snowed in; just shy of a foot of snow fell here, with frigid temperatures. The snow was beautiful, light and fluffy and the woods were cloaked with a purity and crispness that we hadn’t seen yet this season. Judging from the tracks on several of our preserves, a number of people braved the cold to don snow shoes or cross-county skis. I was fine with just boots.

With snow on the ground, the brook was just a series of dark holes in the white.

Visiting Paffard Woods

Paffard Woods is beautiful any time of year. Always something new to see. Because it is close to home, it is a favorite to drop into, to check the trails, look at the water levels in the brook, and, unfortunately, to do a necessary trash pick-up in the parking lot.

The beige leaves of the beech trees remain in contrast to the snow, and rustle in the wind.

With the fresh snow, the trails and woodlands took on a lovely soft rounded and bright look. Thanks to some earlier rain, there was some water in the brook, and the open pockets looked dark and made for pretty contrasts. In some places we could still hear the little gurgle of the brook, not fully frozen, under the snow and between the rocks. It was easy to see where squirrels had dropped into the snow and possibly tried to find previously buried acorns. There were some interesting prints, where birds had landed on the snow, only to find it was probably deeper than expected, and their wings left prints as they lifted themselves out. All in all a cold yet quite lovely hike in the woods.

Something popped out to find a snack.

The soft impression of a bird's wing.

Fast forward just a couple of days; the temperatures hit the upper 50’s, there was heavy rain, and literally overnight the snow disappeared. The warmth seemed to stir more squirrel activity as we saw them foraging through the leaves, but no prints this time. We saw a few moths and hoped they were not the dreaded Winter Moths still out and looking for reproductive opportunities. The feel of the woods was like April. There was almost a humidity to it. The streams were running quite full, and we undammed a few areas where leaves and debris had blocked the flow and created flooding around the bridges. (Playing in running water is fun anytime of year as far as I am concerned.) The water flowing under and through the stone bridge on the middle trail was so beautifully noisy, we just had to stop and listen and spied some evergreen Christmas fern still looking fresh. We noted skunk cabbages up in the wetlands; the moss was an exuberant green on the rocks and ledges, and the lichens were all soft and rubbery from the abundant moisture.

With rain and snow melt, flooding needed to be relieved.

After the thaw, the moss and lichen were refreshed.

The brook is refilled, and the mosses and ferns tease us with their emerald color.

Not Spring yet

I know we are in for more cold. As much as I enjoy the respite and warmth, I know the temperature swings are not good for many plants and animals. We do not want things emerging from hibernation, teased by warmth and thawed wetlands. We do not want to see flower buds begin to swell, all only to be blasted back by the cold we know will come. We do need things to stay in sync. So much depends on it. But it sure is fun to see so much variation in a short time, in a familiar place.

Photographs by Beth Sullivan.

Some goals for this new year

January is a good time for reflection. Where have we been? How did we get here? What could we have done differently? What have we learned?

From David Allen’s blog post “Development for Conservation”

By Beth Sullivan

Sitting on the couch, cuddled into a down blanket with a cup of tea, some throat drops and a box of tissues, and a couple of dogs that just don’t understand-that’s where I have been for the last week. How did I get here? Way too much wonderful Christmas affection that I wouldn’t change for the world. But it has made me sit a bit more and think about that quote above. 

To get very close to see details

Reflecting back on my past New Years’ resolutions , as far as I can remember, they all involve getting out, exploring, looking more closely and appreciating the outdoors. If I do that, it will take care of my secondary resolution to get more exercise.

Being involved with Avalonia, and wanting to get more knowledgeable about the preserves and trails, has given me a lot more incentive to roam. In the past year I enjoyed getting out of my backyard and getting to properties in other towns, properties with trails to explore so I can share them in this blog and on the website. 

To help overcome fears.

For the next generation

Lately, I am feeling a greater sense of urgency in helping the next generations get out and look closely and appreciate the natural world around us. Working on the Hike and Seek project gave me an outlet to accomplish more of that mission. As I walk and wander, I am now thinking about how I would show things to a child by my side. I try to get down lower, look up higher and think with an open curious mind. I am trying to take photos that will help inspire or explain or create curiosity. We started this project as a challenge to find a target or goal, a personal challenge, not a contest, but it has evolved into more of an educational project. People have responded that they enjoy having the photos and explanations to help guide their walk. We are adding educational resources and links as we go along now. Parents have enjoyed looking ahead so they can point things out to their kids, and some of those parents have written back and said they have learned a lot as well. This gives me great hope because I realize more people are actually using the project site to give greater depth to their own outdoor explorations. 

To know where to find something unusual.

There so many distractions, responsibilities and various dangers out in the rest of the world. To me one of the biggest dangers is that we are losing open space with its beauty and diversity, where we can find peace and get away from the distractions and responsibilities of the other lives we have to lead. Our mission as a land trust is to continue to preserve these beautiful and valuable spaces so everyone can continue to find respite. My goal is to help provide the insight into some of these places and the treasures hidden in plain sight, so everyone can understand the importance of our conservation mission and share it with their own children. It is preserved for them and the generations to follow.

To look at ordinary and see extraordinary. 

Direction is clear

So, I know where I have been and I know where I want to go. I have learned a lot, and I have a good idea of what I want to do in the next year: I want to be able to share this even more. 

To look up high for a new view.

To see beauty in soft landscapes.

To spot a jewel.

I ask you to help me. Send your photos and thoughts about the places you wander to hikeandseek@avalonialc.org. I would love to be able to use them to help encourage others to do the same.



I look forward to hearing from you. Happy New Year!