Swamp Story

     I went for a walk not too long ago. In front of a white house I found someone's misplaced 'To do' list. It read: 

        - Make America great again
        - Build a wall
        - Drain the swamp

     Uh-oh! I kind of like swamps just the way they are. Better get out there and enjoy one right now. Before the emergency draining begins.
     That's how one cold winter's afternoon found me wandering around Eldridge Swamp over beyond Cambridge. It had been close to ten below in the morning. That's what I call swamp weather. It's what you need to turn open water and boot-sucking muck into a frozen, walkable surface. To everything there is a season...

     Washington County has lots of swamps but Eldridge is a publicly owned State Forest and it's accessible. That makes it my 'go to'. There would certainly be more to see in summer but also more mosquitos, ticks and mud. Which is not to say that conditions were perfect for my visit. 

     The first challenge was parking. There are three places along Rt. 313 where you can leave your vehicle to access Eldridge. At least there is most of the year. In winter that number can drop to zero. But I was driving a Toyota 4x4 truck and feeling a little cocky, so I plowed thru a small snowbank and skidded down to the summer parking lot. Now snow covered ice is easy enough to go down but what about coming up and out? Too late to worry about that now. Besides, the swamp was waiting. Time to explore. 
     The walking wasn't all I'd hoped for either. There was a breakable crust with an inch of powder snow on top. It might have been good skiing but maneuverability becomes an issue when you're bushwhacking thru shrubby cover. Snowshoes were another option but they were back home in the garage. I decided to go with just boots and did posthole a bit. It was a little tedious but doable.

Where are they when you need them?

     Even by mid-afternoon it was still frigid. I had intended to do some plant identification, using field guides and taking notes. But that was clearly out of the question. Just taking my gloves off to snap a few photos left my fingers with that tingly feeling. As the saying goes, "It's the next life where everything is perfect." With winter 'swamping' you take what you can get.

     Ecologists divide and subdivide wetlands. In the book    Wetland, Woodland, Wildland - A Guide to the Natural Communities of Vermont they list at least 40 different types.  Water level, vegetation type and position in the landscape differentiate. Eldridge is large enough to have a variety of habitats. Leaving the parking lot I walked across a field that was dry enough to have been farmed in the past. An old logging road then lead into a mixed forest stand of pine, hemlock and hardwoods. It was low and level but didn't seem excessively wet. Then a slight drop of a foot or two  transitioned into more of a scrubby, small tree and shrub habitat with alders, red maple and elm. 

     I wandered out thru this brushy area noting various tracks in the snow with rabbit and coyote prevalent. It was open enough to get good views of Snake Ridge, the Shushan hills and the higher mountains of Vermont to the east. The quiet was striking - an almost complete stillness.

     Eventually I could see some open water with what appeared to be a railroad grade on the other side. I believe this was a slough that empties into the Battenkill River but it was now late afternoon of a cold winter's day. Time to turn around and follow my tracks back the way I'd came. 

     Before leaving I stopped to examine the catkins of an alder. I must have stood too long in one spot. In almost comical slow motion the icy crust gave way and I sunk into water just over the top of my boot. This introduced a small note of urgency to getting back to the truck.  Heading out, I swear I heard a chuckling voice say "I'm a swamp. What did you expect?"
     As I retraced my route the only sound was the crunch of boots on snow, with maybe a little sloosh from the water I'd taken on! But then I thought I heard a voice. The voice of the swamp. It was as if the ice had been broken (literally and figuratively) between Eldridge and myself. This place wanted to tell its story if only I would listen.

     Turns out the swamp had already spoken to better listeners than myself. Geologists, botanists and ecologists have all visited and pieced together a history of the area. Since my winter outing I've been looking into what they've learned. Hopefully I'll get to share some of the swamp's story in a future post. 

EXIT STRATEGY

     Kame deposits form steep banks on the south side of Eldridge. From the S bend on Rt. 313 an old farm lane drops down the slope to an overgrown field. This is now used as access to the section of State Forest between 313 and the Battenkill. It works fine in summer, not so good in winter. 

The access lane from a previous 'no problem' visit

     Exercise caution before driving down here when conditions are 'iffy'. I wish I had. When it was time to come out all I could do was put her in four-wheel drive, get a running start and aim for the top of the snowy/icy hill. First, the truck fishtailed towards a deep ditch that separates the lane from the highway. That was good for a little shot of adrenaline. Thankfully it straightened but then began to lose traction. Just when things were beginning to look dire one wheel pushed thru the snowbank at the top and caught dry pavement. Out we popped and before reaching Cambridge merciful heat was blowing on my needy toes. All's well that ends warm... 
         

Poets & Paths

     I didn't plan on this. On being in North Bennington again. Not so soon. 
     Don't get me wrong. It's an inviting town, well worth a visit. Just a few weeks ago I spent a rewarding afternoon exploring the writer Shirley Jackson's legacy here. But there's the rub. My habit is to become intrigued by something or somewhere. I'll do a little research, then go and check it out. Boots on the ground. And, too often, not go back again, sometimes for years. 
     It isn't that the 'something or somewhere' disappointed. More a case of "So many places, so little time". My restless curiosity gets the best of me. I crave fresh discovery. There's nothing like the thrill of a first date, even if that first date is with a limestone ledge and its fossils. Or a buggy swamp that might possibly host a few overlooked orchids. And so I move on and on. And sadly, don't keep in touch with my old 'place' friends.

Cuddling with Mary - Web image

     But on January 17, 2019 Mary Oliver died, and I knew I'ld be going back to North Bennington. Oliver's poetry was an inspiration to all who take their sustenance from nature. Over the course of a long life she wrote hundreds, maybe thousands, of poems. Some fine prose as well. In Long Life there's an essay titled 'Home' that could well serve as the anthem for this blog.

     She liked to walk. Almost every morning found her wandering thru fields, woods, along beaches. Always with a notebook, often with her beloved dogs. For most of her life she lived in Provincetown, Massachusetts. Her poems are filled with images of the shore, the ocean and the life they nourish. 
     She also taught. For five years from 1996 to 2001 she taught at Bennington College. Her students remember her warmly. She was selflessly dedicated to them and their work. Humble about her own writing. And they remember seeing her walking. Early in the morning, usually with a dog.

Bennington College - Web image

     Since her passing I've been reading and rereading Oliver's poems. So have a lot of other people. If I could, I'ld go to Provincetown. Walk where she walked. Follow her admonition:      
"To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work." But the Cape is a little beyond my reach. North Bennington, on the other hand, I can do. And that's what Gwenne and I did recently. We went to Vermont and walked where Mary might have. I'll share a little of what we saw. Nothing poetic but I did try to pay attention.

THE SHORT ALDRICH TRAIL

     From the circle in the center of town we crossed Paran Creek and drove up Prospect Street to where it turns sharp left. Instead of turning, go straight thru the stone pillars to a small parking lot. The Short Aldrich Trail begins just a little back down Prospect on the left. It's a narrow footpath that winds thru several distinctly different wooded areas, eventually coming to a place where you can cross Paran creek, walk some streets and then enter the Mile-Around Woods on the other side of the valley.

     At least that's the way you are supposed to do it. We, on the other hand, followed what seemed like a well trodden path that started right from the parking area. It turned out to be a short cut  that students use to get to town. We quickly came out in back of Jennings Hall, the impressive stone mansion that houses Bennington College's music department and that is reputedly haunted. Denied any ghost sightings, we wandered college lanes and paths before coming to The Orchard, a small cluster of houses used by faculty. Past the colleges observatory and gardens we eventually entered the woods and picked up the Short Aldrich Trail back to our truck.

     The Bennington College campus is invitingly spacious with open fields and eclectic architecture. What's called The Blue Trail encircles it. I don't know what the college's policies are but it seems OK to walk here and it's certainly pleasant. I'm sure Mary Oliver's footsteps fell on every inch of these paths.

THE ROBERT FROST TRAIL

     I doubt if she ever walked the next trail we went on. But I'll bet she would have liked to. What poet wouldn't want to follow The Robert Frost Trail? But it wasn't built until 2011, post-dating Oliver's time in North Bennington. It goes from the Lake Paran beach to the Robert Frost Stone House Museum in nearby South Shaftsbury. Lore has it that Frost, after an all night writing session, went out for a morning walk. Then he came back, sat at his kitchen table and wrote "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening". That fruitful walk, in June of 1922, may have traced the route of today's Robert Frost Trail.

     We hiked a couple of miles out to Paran Creek and back (With nothing to show for it but this blog post. Obviously, I'm no Robert Frost!). That's about half the way to the Museum. Most of the route is along the lake shore with one hill that takes you up to a high, open meadow with sweeping views. The Green Mountains look like a wooded tidal wave coming in from the east while cone shaped Mt. Anthony shares the southern horizon with its phallic companion, the Bennington Monument. To the west are the low hills of the Vt./N.Y. border. This area is sometimes referred to as the Hoosic Falls reentrant, where the Walloomsac and Hoosic Rivers have eroded a gap in the High Taconic ridgeline.

     Naturalist will find much to enjoy along the Robert Frost Trail. Even on a cold winter day we saw mallards on open water above a beaver dam and scores of tracks in the snow. Come the first warm days of spring this south facing hillside will come alive with flower blossoms and bird song. I'm think Mary would have liked it here.

THE MILE-AROUND WOODS

     No walking tour of North Bennington is complete without visiting The Mile-Around Woods. Since they were open to the public in 1994, and the carriage road has been there much longer, I would be surprised if Mary didn't spend time here during her teaching years. 
     To access the property go up West Street from the town circle. After going thru an intersection and past the Park-McCullough House you'll see a lane leading across fields on the left. There is limited parking along the road. Walk on the lane between fences and don't disturb the horses that sometimes graze in adjoining pastures. The maple lined lane ascends a low hill to informational maps and signage at the forests edge.

     The carriage road winds thru an impressive, mature forest with lots of healthy looking beech trees and some glacial erratic boulders that kids have fun playing on. Most folks will just stroll the Mile-Around loop but there is an extensive network of trails that can be explored. This would also make a good ski tour, being wide and gently rolling. The bedrock in this part of Vermont is dolostone with some marble and these carbonates should encourage a profusion of spring wildflowers. No matter the season, The Mile-Around Woods will delight.

Map with trails in purple - Short Aldrich on right and Mile-Around to the left

       Mary Oliver's heart may have been in Provincetown but her feet had a five year fling with North Bennington. Life gets a little better when you read her poetry, share her sensibility, walk where she did. And when you pay attention.

A FEW STEPS FURTHER...

     Learn more about Mary Oliver and North Bennington at these sites:

     * Her former students reminisce here. 

     * The poet gave few interviews but she did talk to Krista Tippett for On Being. Listen to the podcast or read the transcript here. 

     * The Fund for North Bennington is the community organization that has preserved the land and developed the trails I mention. Find out more about them here. 

     * Isabel Marlens has put together a neat guide to spring ephemeral's that you might see on these trails. Access it here. They'll be blooming before you know it.

     * Info on the Robert Frost Stone House Museum here. 

     * Many people go to North Bennington just to visit the Park-McCullough House. It's conveniently adjacent to the Mile-Around Woods. Here's what you need to know.

     * Brett Stanciu is a writer/blogger from northern Vermont. She's also a fan of Mary Oliver. You might enjoy her Stony Soil Vermont.