Cascades Park in the Style of Aldo Leopold
The air is still, but there is life here. The path slopes up as the trees thicken and breathe. This land is practically untouched, as if I am the first to encounter it. Ice that once filled a small stream spirals up the trail, and I can almost hear its frozen roar. The sea of trees is enveloping me into this space, as a Yellow Birch appears distinctly out of the cold earth. Around it, four Eastern White Pines guard the site. Placing a hand on the tree’s trunk allows me to feel its pulse, its life force. My footsteps are the first here, the snow is almost warm, yet firm when disturbed. The calls of a Black-capped Chickadee can be heard in the distance, her calls are seldom answered.
The leaves of the White Oak contrast against the white expanse of land. The deciduous trees are in dormancy, while conifers thrive. Beneath the trees, a stone wall stands, dividing the land. Its sturdy design houses creatures in search of shelter. It shows us the history of this place, how it served those before us, and how it’s changed since. This piece of nature was used for agriculture, and then left to rebuilt its beauty. The rush of the distant cascading waterfalls adds to the ambiance of these hills, as life continues to grow and change.
Comparison of Centennial Woods to Cascades Park in the Style of Wright
As I trudged through the icy path of Cascade Park, I was reminded of a familiar natural space far from home. Although states away, these places share many qualities. When I walk through each space, the air feels crisp and clear, as if I hadn’t been breathing before my arrival. In Burlington, the shade of the Eastern Hemlocks cloak my presence, and the needles create a new layer on the forest floor. In Worcester, the sunlight penetrates the earth, and I am odding alone in an array of still life.
When I last explored Centennial woods, I sat beneath the almost barren Red Maples, watching as fall prepared for departure. The reddish soil beneath me gave support as I carefully listened to the sounds of busy squirrels preparing themselves for winter. By the time I came upon Cascade Park, winter weather had froze over the existing soil, preserving it, while showcasing the fallen leaves of Maples and American Beeches. This land had given me a different kind of peace. Hearing my own steps crunch through the snow gave me an awareness of my presence in nature. Both places deliver me to a safe place, where nature evolves and understands, and where unquestionable beauty exists.