Tuesday, December 25, 2018

Four trees ... radio, relationships and collaboration


As I write this, we are two days past the winter solstice. The days have now begun to gradually get longer. In this first part of winter, it's cold and wet here in the Ohio River Valley this time of yearThe daytime temperatures are not far above freezing, and they have a particular power to chill, with all the moisture in the air. So I haven't really wanted to spend a lot of time away from home. Staying home more and looking out my back window often, I naturally turn inward with my own thoughts and ponderings. I imagine that my ancestors many millennia back have done the same at the time of the winter solstice. Much of my inner pondering is on relationships, and of course human relationships are at the forefront. Some turns in my life have recently led to thinking about my relationship with trees, and in particular, four trees close to home in my own back yard. I'll share with you in this blog post a chapter in our lives together - the trees and I.

Four months ago, my family and I had the privilege of going to my nephew's wedding in the greater Atlanta area. We stayed with my brother James and his family for a few nights. In between the celebration events leading up to and enjoying the actual wedding ceremony, James and I caught up on our interests and activities, like we often do, both over the phone, and in person. We are both tech-head nerds, and enjoy talking about technology. When he told me some details about pursuing amateur radio as a hobby with his youngest son over the past couple of years, I felt drawn back to a spark of childhood interest in pursuing being a ham radio operator. This interest had actually been a pre-cursor to my becoming an electronics engineer. Sometime about 1971, I had put up a rudimentary long wire antenna for the 1950's Hallicrafters shortwave receiver that my dad gave to me. I became familiar with international shortwave broadcast stations, and wondered about the strange non-vocal sounds that I heard spinning the dial, which I would not recognize for many years as being digital data transmissions, mostly radio teletype. I heard what were obviously human transmissions that sounded weirdly distorted and sometimes like a robot voice. This was because my general coverage shortwave receiver would not demodulate single side-band  (SSB) transmissions, the preferred mode of HF (High Frequency) voice communication for about the past 84 years. My curiosities and desire to communicate with these amateur radio operators made me realize that I wanted to become a radio amateur. I was about 12 years of age. I was unable to find someone who could really hold my hand and help me take the first steps into this magical field of applied science! My pursuit of electronics design in general stuck. I graduated with an Electrical Engineering degree in 1983, but I dropped the pursuit of the radio amateur license. Fast forward to August, 2018, and suddenly I was in conversation with my 12 - year old self again 47 years later! I knew I had had to pursue getting my license. My brother had shared taking his Technician ham license exam and General class exam back - to - back, in the same night. I decided that I would do that, too. I found the excellent license study manuals written by the American Radio Relay League for both levels, and worked through them over the next two and a half months. On December 5th, I went to an ARRL - sponsored exam session an hour away from home, and passed both, as my brother James had almost exactly two years prior.

To satisfy my curiosity and get the lay of the land, I purchased an all - band HF long wire antenna, and a low-cost computer - based, software - defined radio (SDR) a month before successfully taking the Tech and General exams. I put up this antenna and started spinning the dial like crazy, just like I had as a 12 year - old boy. This time, I could listen to all those SSB transmissions that my Hallicrafters hadn't been set up for. I made plans to acquire an HF radio transceiver and eventually pursue ALL transmission modes - voice, Morse code, and digital streams over radio. The idea of bouncing signals off electrically charged layers of the atmosphere to communicate with hams all over the world using well-established, orderly protocols, and be an ambassador of good will from the US really resonates with me in many ways. I also like the prospect of having the skills and means to someday be of service in a disaster scenario. Most people don't know that radio amateurs are on the front lines when a disaster takes out the cell phone, land line, and power in a region. They have established procedures for sending out hams to set up temporary radio communication relay stations, each covering a radius of 300 miles or more. In this manner, they are a key part in our country's disaster response processes.

The timing of getting my license and limited funds made me re-think buying the do-all 100 watt transceiver rig, and opt for a four Watt output Continuous Wave (CW) Morse code - only transceiver. This most efficient of radio modes had always intrigued me, and I realized that limiting myself to this type of radio would make it more likely that I would gain some proficiency with the very old International Morse Code rather than get caught up in my already well - proven ability to engage in an English speech dialogue, so I changed the plan. I purchased a highly- respected radio kit for about fifty dollars, constructed it, and brought it up about a week after getting the license. I also got a telegraphy key for transmitting. Morse code school has begun for me in earnest.

In mid - November, we had to say goodbye to a pair of Bradford pear trees.. These two were the last of three Bradford Pears that had been living on the property when we first moved to Union, Kentucky in 2003. The first one had been wiped out by some forty - mile an hour straight line winds that blew through about three years ago. This first one was in our front yard, and I remember sadness at having to hire someone to cut down the splintered pieces of trunk and branches and grind the stump flush. I think all of us in the family felt sadness, but I remember my wife, Sharon, cried over the loss of that tree. It was a more difficult decision when early in the fall of this year, a thunderstorm sheared a huge branch off one of the last two surviving Bradford pears that grew close together in the western corner of our yard. This was the second time this pair of trees took a hit like this. I have learned belatedly that the cultivars of the Bradford pear tree that have proliferated in the US have developed serious structural weakness over the generations, and typically live less than 25 years.1 That would be the roughly the age of our last two, assuming they were planted when the house was built in 1994. The only way to extend the life of these trees, I'm told by the arborist that I hired, is to cut them back seriously at least every two years.

I mentioned that removing these was a more difficult decision. We had grown emotionally attached to these trees because they offered afternoon shade looking out over our back yard. Here is a spring 2016 sunset shot:



My son Caleb and I had cut up a section of the same tree about a year and a half ago in the previous storm incident mentioned above, and it seemed OK until this storm hit, so I was still thinking that it could be stabilized again. A neighbor had just had a brand new fence installed and had expressed a concern that parts of the tree were going to fall and break it. I knew it was at least going to have to be cut way back. When I called the arborist, I told him that I did not want to kill the trees for convenience. I asked him to please try to stabilize them by cutting them back. He originally told me that he would give me a quote on the work, but I would have to wait about two weeks. When he called me back, he told me that the trees were so unstable that he was moving me to the front of his work schedule out of concern for an imminent collapse. I realized that my emotional attachment to keeping my trees was blinding me to their true condition. It had been a very rainy fall for us, and the crew had to leave their truck in the driveway, and carry the trees out to the truck piece by piece. Our back yard just doesn't seem the same now.



I can't help but think of the ancestors of these trees in China and Viet Nam, before they were brought to North America, and bred for their rapid growth capabilities that shorten their lives.1 Now that we have spread them all over our developed real estate, we are compelled to kill them unnaturally to prevent them from threatening our constructed property. It's another interesting, but sad story of humans getting crossed up with other life forms on our home planet.


Now back to the story of returning to ham radio, I promise not to walk you into the nerdy antenna construction details because I want to tell the rest of the tree story. I needed the antenna to cruise all the bands during my study period for the license exams.  I put up an all - HF - band (3.5 - 30 MHz) long wire antenna. The challenge was its overall radiating wire length of 132 feet. I didn't  really have enough back yard for a straight run with that. In a situation like this, I am absolutely dependent on a tree to support one end of the antenna. I originally thought that this supporting tree would be rather absorptive of the signal if the radiating part of the antenna ran through it,  and that I needed to route as much as possible along one of the ends of my house to keep the other end of the radiating span clear of the tree. So I originally suspended the far end of the radiating wire from a dacron cord pulled into the tree. On the near feed end of this wire, I ran it up most of the northeast vertical corner of the house, and along the eave on the north end of the house. This next photo shows a view looking toward the north peak along that eave, with the northeast vertical corner of the house about ten feet behind me. Yes, those are in fact modified plastic forks used as standoffs.



Here's a shot looking up at the dacron cord attach point to the antenna wire far point (indicated with the small red circle) the way it was originally installed. There is almost no tree branch contact with the wire end.



I used this original antenna setup for a few weeks on my SDR radio, but I began wondering about the near end being so low to the ground. I had mounted the near end of the radiating long wire only about 30 inches above the ground, and was concerned about my future 100 watt HF transceiver representing an RF shock hazard to our dog when I was in transmit mode. After finishing my exams on December 5th, I put the question to one of the three volunteer examiners since they were veterans holding amateur extra licenses. I described my reasons for routing as much of the antenna as practical on the north end of the house to avoid routing in the tree. I learned two things: firstly, I would lose much more signal routing along the house due to nails, aluminum flashing, and the like as opposed to committing more of the 132 foot antenna length to the tree, and secondly, yes the dog or any human touching the end of my wire could indeed get a painful RF burn! I realized that I had to bring it down, and re-route it. A few weeks passed without me being to work on it due to a lot of rain or seriously cold temperatures, but I managed to take care of this on December 20th. Here is the near end. The radiating element starts at the match box about ten feet below the PVC pipe at the roof peak which supports the long span. Below the match box is the coaxial cable feed into the house, and a bare copper ground wire.



Here is a shot of the far end. The attach point to the dacron cord that pulls tension on it and is tied off to a low branch is marked with a red circle. The purple dots mark the wire's path up to the high supporting branch and out toward the tree.


Here is a shot showing the southeast - northeast long span to the peak of the roof on the north end of the house:


It's interesting to me that collaborating with a large part of the tree for supporting the end of a long wire antenna  was a better plan than avoiding contact with it and routing more of the wire length close to the north roof edge and down the wall of my house. I have been thinking about how the old - timers in the art have always found a ready supporting friend for their antennas in trees. A shaman once told me that trees love energy in many forms and thrive with it. The traditional ham operator collaboration with trees is is an example of humans working effectively with mother nature! Realizing this makes me feel better about having to cut down the two Bradford pears. I had started the day of re-routing the antenna feeling out of sorts, maybe even depressed. Native Americans treat trees as sacred, living beings, and I have gratefully accepted this practice for myself. Climbing into that beautiful (and very sturdy) maple tree in the southwest corner of our yard, I felt a spiritual bonding with it in a way that I hadn't before. I thanked the tree for being so supportive of my radio hobby, and her willingness to collaborate with me on my antenna project. I was able to climb, and using a pole, to place the wire in the very top branches before sending it down to be tied off with dacron line. It receives signals from up to thousands of miles away extremely well. I haven't been visited by a certain friendly local ham club member that offered to help me do the final tuning and performance testing, but I believe it's going to work great when I start transmitting as well as receiving on it! Thank you, maple tree! Live long and strong!

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyrus_calleryana 

Saturday, August 4, 2018

Kayak river ride, tree/river encounter, unexpected water encounter

I spent time on Saturday, August 4th with my close friend Claude Roberts, who is a nature lover, and a fellow writer. Claude is going to guest on this blog very soon with a written story of another tree that collapsed near the Little Miami river and continued to grow beyond all odds. This story, however, is about an encounter with two trees that have fallen in the river and their bodies have started to break down and return their elements to the earth.

Claude and I put his two kayaks into the Little Miami River not far from his home in Newtown, Ohio. Within a few minutes of putting in, while drifting in the slow current side by side, I made a tobacco offering to the river as I have been taught from american indigenous traditions. I said a prayer to the water spirits, and in particular, the goddess of the Little Miami, and thanked her. Water spirits are, as far as I know, all feminine. I asked the spirits to show us anything that would serve our highest good.

The thing that I love about paddling with Claude on this river is that he is very slow and meditative in the way he engages. There is absolutely nothing type A about it - no need for speed. In fact, he prefers drifting with the current and using the paddle for course correction only, unless he is paddling backwards to hold station at a point on the river for something . He told me today that this is big medicine for him. I could see the catharsis unfold from his spirit. It was medicine to me just to watch him, but I'm sure the water was draining some of my stored - up worries and cares directly from me as well. I told Claude at one point that it felt like being held as a baby in the arms of our mother.

Before we left from his house, Claude asked me if I really wanted to take my micro four-thirds camera and camera bag with me. He warned me there was always a chance that I could capsize. I was thinking this is a very lazy river; that chance was small, and in order to have the option of capturing some images along the way, I decided to risk it. I didn't know at that point that I was going to have some unexpected interaction with this river.

We continued under a bridge, and down the river several hundred yards before coming to an island mostly overgrown with tall weeds. I did manage to find a spectacular little clump of purple flowers in the middle of it.

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This island was a favorite spot of Claude's, and he let me know that he was going to beach his kayak on the upriver tip of this island, leave it, and float on the right side of the island to the downriver end perhaps eighty or a hundred yards away. He advised me that if I didn't want to follow him in that, I could find trails coming to the left banks of the island, and meet him there. I slip-slided my way along the bank, holding onto sturdy weeds to keep from falling flat. Eventually I found a trailhead on that bank, and followed a trail for the last thirty yards or so. On the right side at the downriver tip of the island, I met Claude. He pointed out a couple of fallen trees in the water which I took a few pictures of.

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I waded across to the trunk of the nearest one. One thing I realized is that the two trees formed a constricted inlet that really picked up the river current at this point. The water was only thigh - high; yet it was all I could do to stand. I felt the power of the river as a broad spectrum of vibration against my legs in sync with the sounds all around me. The water sounds that stand out when you feel this broad spectrum have higher frequencies - those "babbling brook" sounds come to mind. Claude had told me that I should step on the nearest tree trunk and feel the vibration of the river with my feet. He pointed place for me to stand where the water went right over a low spot. It was here that I felt the lowest frequencies of the river's vibrational energy. That tree ... still alive, was filtering out the higher frequencies, and letting me feel the super low - frequency energy in my feet. The frequencies were subsonic; even seismic feeling. When we discussed what the energy felt like, Claude said it felt almost menacing to him. I can tell you that it was definitely dark feeling. It didn't feel all comfortable and nurturing. I said it felt like "don't fuck with me" energy. I was starting to feel like I had mis-characterized Lady Little Miami somewhat in thinking that she was always very calm, smooth, and easy feeling.

We walked back around the left bank, the way I had come down the length of the island, and put into the river on the right side with our kayaks. When I neared the downriver tip of the island, I found my kayak inexplicably pulled against the outer tree visible in the last photo above. In trying to paddle away from it, I somehow did a 180 and smacked the right side of my boat up against the trunk with my back facing upriver. I lost my paddle at that point, but I could see that Claude was clear of the island and "treacherous trees", upriver about 10 yards, and that the paddle was floating straight in his direction. I yelled over my shoulder a couple of times for him to grab the paddle so that we wouldn't lose it. My camera bag with the Olympus body and five lenses in it was really in trouble due to my grabbing the tree in a vain attempt to try and get control of the boat. I made things worse than they needed to be with this pulling against the tree, and the boat tipped to my left enough to fill with water. I turned loose of the tree, and becaue the kayak has superior buoyancy, I managed to float with in the half - sunk boat down to a shallows area by the next island. Claude helped me drag the boat up onto the rocky little island tip and we turned it over to dump the water. I then assessed the water immersion to my camera gear. There was about two inches of water surrounding everything. I drained the gear as best I could, removed the lithium battery from it's compartment in the camera, and put it all back in the soaked bag. I had to. I had nothing else to carry the camera and lenses in.

Now this sort of misfortune some years back would very likely have resulted in my throwing a "can't believe I did that - can't believe that happened" fit. Instead, I remembered that I had asked in my prayer at the beginning for the water spirits to show me what was for my highest good, and calmed myself. At this point in writing this blog entry, I don't know what they were saying to me. It was too early to grieve for my camera outfit. I would just have to take it home, give it time to dry out, and see what still worked after 24 hours or so. I resolved to not let this event ruin the rest of my river trip. I am happy to say that it didn't. I got back to that blissful drifting thing that Claude has led me into enjoying. I was back in mama Gaia's arms again! When we got back to Claude's truck, he gave me very good suggestion, which I followed - set the camera and lenses up on his dash in the sun to dry outside the bag on our drive back to his place. They fit easily because micro four-thirds format camera bodies and lenses are really compact compared to traditional DSLRs.

Claude and I had a wonderful meal in the Beechmont community, and parted ways. At my house, we have this "garden window" that we recently acquired as part of a window upgrade. I spread the gear out in said window for the last two hours of the day, and intend to let it sit there until dark tomorrow, catching whatever sun it can. Then, I'll attempt power - up.


Drying out my gear after the river trip. After some more sun through this window for another day, we shall see what survived the partial boat flooding I experienced alongside those fallen  trees!

It's time to close this blog entry. I intend to pay attention to my dreams tonight. I'm inviting those water spirits to show up in my dreamtime and clarify any messages intended for me in today's event. I'll be sure and share that in my next blog entry. Right now, it's a clear night and I'm going to step out in the back yard with my binoculars and try to view Mars in opposition.

Monday, July 30, 2018

My first bird (for me, mostly trees for birds) walk - Burnet Woods

The Universe recently called me to engage with Burnet Woods: (1) getting to know the trees and other beings there, and (2) in active dialogue with the Cincinnati Parks Board and other humans to hopefully try to see how beautiful it is without being augmented by brick, mortar, and pavement for certain human pursuits rather unrelated to nature. Please see my previous blog entry Burnet Woods and Recent Development Proposals for background.

I have yet to follow through on item (2) above, but yesterday, I showed up for a bird walk sponsored by the #PreserveBurnetWoods organization. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting the six other wonderful people in our group, and heard many different birds that were expertly identified by them from sounds and distant sightings. My new friend Anne Oliver had a marvelous Swarovski spotting scope on a stable lightweight tripod, and managed to train it on most of the birds that we met. I got a great view of a few. I can't say if they were more shy than usual that morning, but I was unable to get photos of any. I have come to the conclusion that I need a longer focal length telephoto lens for bird photography.

What was pleasantly surprising to me is that this group of longtime birders were perfectly willing to talk in detail with this newbie about the trees that these birds call home, either on a year - round or a "vacation - time" basis. It shouldn't have been surprising, for I am realizing that naturalists like birders understand a sacred Lakota native concept very well: "Mitákuye Oyás'iŋ", which literally translates as "All are Related". We can't love the birds without loving and caring for the trees. So with the glass that I had, I chose to go for easier targets on the few images that I caught. I intentionally post links to Flickr in here so that I don't have to compromise on resolution. That's particularly useful on the fisheye wide-angle shots. You can click on the caption hyperlinks to view on my Flickr site page, and then click once more with the magnifying glass pointer up on Flickr to zoom in and take a closer look at these beautiful old trees! Many thanks to Brian Wulker for identifying the trees for me. I hope you enjoy looking at their images here, and perhaps find time to meet them in the flesh!

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Sun rising on western shore of the lake


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A rather majestic white oak


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Hackberry tree view 1


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Hackberry tree view 2

Sunday, July 22, 2018

The Enchanted Forestland of Wisteria

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Between July 9th and 16th, my wife, Sharon and I had the blessing of attending the Starwood Festival at the Wisteria Event Site and Campgrounds in the Appalachian foothills of southeast Ohio. The Starwood Festival is an interesting event in terms of the people and workshops, but this blog post focuses on the story of the grounds; the land, and the rich depth of life that I discovered there.

What is Wisteria? It is a a nature preserve, a venue for private and public events, and a campground.  It is more than that, however. Wisteria's true uniqueness arises from the vision of its resident shareholders. They see this 620 acre parcel of land as a sacred living entity, and many of them devote their lives to lovingly tending it and healing the damage that was done to it in the 1950s, which is where I will begin the historical background. In the ‘50s the area that is now Wisteria was rich with coal and its hillsides were strip mined. With the view of natural resources as existing to exploit for corporate profit and consumption that was very prevalent at the time, the land area was left in ruins after about ten years of mining.  Locals who lived in the area during the time have described the area as being covered in rocks and devoid of any life. Soon, erosion began to occur alarmingly close to the main roads in the area. The state of Ohio implemented coal taxes, and administered "reclamation" of the land. Over $1 million was spent on this work.1 Fast forward now to the mid 1990's. I was unable to locate any details on exactly what the state - administered reclamation program that occured in the 60's did for the land, but founding shareholder Charlene Suggs stated in an interview with Southeast Ohio Magazine: “When we came here it was a field—there was nothing—we had the remnants of the logging roads that we threw gravel on and used, but everything we did—every time we had an event,we just piled that money back into the land, and after a while it should give us dividends. We’ve been free labor because that’s the only way we could afford it,”.1

Charlene Suggs and her husband at the time, Todd Alan, together with 20 other like - minded individuals, established the business entity known as Wisteria in 1996. Unlike so many corporations over the year which have tapped a land resource for the profitable festival business, the shareholders of Wisteria have a less common mission and vision. As hinted at in Suggs' quote in the previous paragraph, the goals of the shareholders and their event business are about healing this beautiful land from the strip mining destruction sixty years ago rather than being concerned with profit - seeking ventures.1


I was fortunate enough to seek out and participate in two Starwood workshops led by author and teacher Adam Davis. You can learn more about Adam's work here. He was the first to tell me some of the story of the land of Wisteria, and point out the amazing resilience of the trees and other vegetation that have grown up over the reclaimed ruins that were so evident just a little over twenty years ago. Here are a few photographs of the "classroom" where I sat with other people in Adam's first workshop on how to learn to live in greater harmony with nature:

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It would be after this workshop with Adam, on my own private wanderings, that I felt the sacred life in Wisteria in a very visceral way. The trees spoke to my soul and provided me with some needed emotional healing as I walked among them. The longest trail that I covered was roughly two miles long. The images that I have shared in this post were from the woodlands connected to the Wisteria campground and event site. There are over 200 acres of of undeveloped greenery and wetlands at Wisteria that are designated as a permanent nature preserve, "allowing reclaimed strip mine areas to heal as naturally as possible." This nature preserve is presently not open to event visitors, however, the Wisteria site says that there are plans to build a few longer trails for select visitors.2
I look forward to it! I felt the ancient story in the trees and the rocks, and realized that the unnatural disaster visited by humans on this place in the '50s was just a blip in that ancient story.

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I arose from our campsite pretty early each day, and sometimes meditated from inside the woodlands, seeing the rising sun as the forest floor and the trees did.

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I want to leave you with an image of a striking American Beech I came across on one of the trails I traveled. At the lower left is the larger of two broken limbs, and you can see the limb stub pointing slightly to the left off the stump of the tree. The scale of this tree and that limb here are deceptive as I was using an ultra wide - angle lens which makes things appear smaller than they are. The broken limb on the ground is roughly the size of a small RV. That isn't a new wound; there was a fair amount of decay at the break. Despite that huge, now - missing limb, this beautiful Beech shows great health and vitality in her canopy. 

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I was left with the feeling that whatever we humans do on this planet we call home, Mother Nature is going to be alright. I'm not as sure about humankind. I think that we are not as resilient as she is. It is my hope and prayer that we will learn to receive and appreciate her unconditional love for us a little better, and recognize that we have a choice to live in harmony with her.

1 http://southeastohiomagazine.com/2017/05/01/wisteria-reclaims-corporate-buisness-model-abanonded-mine-land/
2 https://www.wisteria.org/about-us/nature-preserve/

Sunday, July 1, 2018

Burnet Woods and Recent Development Proposals



The urban core of many American cities is being revitalized, thanks to the trend of many millenials to eschew suburbs, and live as efficiently as possible. This certainly sounds attractive to me! As I approach empty nesting, I find myself drawn away from suburbia toward urban living. Mostly, I crave the spiritual and cultural diversity that can be enjoyed in a larger population center like Cincinnati. I don't like the idea of continuing to be separated from this diversity by fifteen miles of traffic - jam prone interstate highway. My wife and I chose a certain Northern Kentucky suburb primarily for its high quality public schools when we moved here fifteen years ago with three children. We also wanted affordable living space. The youngest of the three is within a year of high school graduation, and now the size of our living space is not nearly as important. We are planning on selling our suburban home, and moving much closer to the spiritual and cultural energy center that draws us. Among the top candidates for us are the Clifton and Northside neighborhoods of Cincinnati, OH.

Although I crave the culture of a true urban center, I don't think that I would feel whole without ready access to green spaces with mature trees! It sounds like a complete conundrum: a choice between concrete or earth under one's feet and a canopy of trees over one's head. This isn't always the case. Cities that had most of their growth in the American postwar era often have only small parks that never really get you out of sight of a street. For American cities that grew significantly in the 19th century, it was different, with large wooded areas preserved and protected from commercial development. The first example I can think of for a large green space in the middle of a city is Central Park on the island of Manhattan, New York City. Another great green space is Burnet Woods, in Cincinnati's Clifton neighborhood.




In 1872, Robert W. Burnet and William S. Groesbeck leased 170 acres of their land to the city of Cincinnati and this land became known as "Burnet Woods". The University of Cincinnati relocated to the southern portion of this original land area, and after another UC expansion in 1950, Burnet Woods Park was left with its present 90 acres, enclosed by Clifton Avenue, Ludlow Avenue, Bishop Avenue, and Martin Luther King Drive.1


Burnet Woods is a unique urban greenspace that is very important to a large number of migrating birds.It has been an urban migrant trap for a large number of bird species for many years. This has been documented in more than ten years of formal bird inventories during spring migration. As a result, the National Audubon Society has designated the park a special category Important Bird Area.2



On May 21st, in a public meeting attended by about 160 residents, the Cincinnati Park Board unanimously approved a motion to call on its staff and stakeholders to come up with a vision and plan for the park to, as board member Jim Goetz put it, "activate it, preserve it and bring in people." More than thirty speakers offered split opinions as to whether development of the park to offer "attractions" is in order, or preserve this precious urban habitat with no further development.3

There are two proposals on the table with the Cincinnati Park Board, both from non-profit organizations. One proposal is for the Camping and Education Foundation to build a 2500 square foot "Living Building".4 I could find no further details on this proposal, but it is ironic to me that an organization that ostensibly promotes camping with educational programs wants to cut down trees, raise a building and put in a parking lot next to this in the place of actual natural greenspace.

The second proposal involves clearing trees to a far greater degree. The Clifton Cultural Arts Center is looking for a new location after their lease was terminated in March, 2017 by the Cincinnati School Board. The CCAC's proposal is for a 25,000 to 35,000 foot building, and presumably, a proportionally sized parking lot.4



I believe that I speak for many in the area when offering the opinion that there is much more at stake here than making this park popular with humans and encouraging commerce. First of all, we are ALL stewards of the trees, and the bird populations that seek refuge in them. But if we cut down most of our area trees, there is a direct health impact to humans, as well. Cincinnati certainly has enough motor vehicle traffic that on very hot, humid summer days, we end up with air quality problems due to CO2 emissions from motor vehicles combining with the atmospheric conditions. Trees breathe in that CO2 which is harmful to us, and convert it into oxygen which is life - giving to us. I can't imagine why we would seriously consider compromising this rare treasure of 90 acres of forestland in the middle of our city.

If you agree with me, please make your voice heard by signing the petition here: https://actionnetwork.org/petitions/preserve-burnet-woods?source=facebook& 



[All photos in this blog entry were taken in Burnet Woods by Brian Dotson on May 27th, 2018. All rights are reserved.]

1 https://sites.google.com/site/ucwalks/points-of-interest/burnett-woods

2 https://www.audubon.org/important-bird-areas/burnet-woods

3 http://wvxu.org/post/cincinnati-park-board-discusses-future-burnet-woods#stream/0

4 http://wvxu.org/post/living-building-and-arts-center-burnet-woods#stream/0