Today, I made my final visit to Centennial Woods. It was funny to me to think about how much it’s changed since I was first there, the ground frozen over with snow. Now it is bright and blooming, fueled by the recent rains.
For my fifteen minute sketch, I drew a red maple bud in bloom. I feel a silly sort of kinship to the red maple I’ve been visiting over these months, and watching it grow has given me a calm peace.
This nature has a rich history behind it. It is rightfully Indigenous land that was stolen during Euro-American settlement and land use. It was then developed into the Centennial Woods Natural Area, and the Native Americans were forced out of their homes.
I think that I am not a part of my place but instead a visitor. I simply come and go. I don’t like to leave a trace, besides maybe footprints, and my disruption of the forest is momentary.
I will miss visiting Centennial Woods for this project. I’m sure I’ll make my way there again, just probably not as often.