Category Archives: Communities

Rediscovering Old Memories

Communities, , , ,

A Field Note from the Archive

For the past few days I have been slowly working my way through a banker’s box full of old files, folders, envelopes, photographs, and newspaper clippings. In truth, it is only one box among several boxes and file drawers that contain pieces of my life from roughly 1970 to the present.

Opening the box felt a little like opening a time capsule.

Inside are decades of letters, articles, notes, photographs, and documents connected to projects, people, and places that shaped different chapters of my life. As I sort through the folders, I keep rediscovering things that I had completely forgotten about. Some of them bring back a flood of good memories. Others remind me of moments that were difficult at the time.

But what has struck me most is how differently many of those experiences look now.

Some things that once felt frustrating, disappointing, or even like failures eventually turned into something positive—sometimes years later. Other things that once seemed incredibly important now feel much smaller when viewed from a distance of decades.

Time has a way of reshaping our understanding.

Going through these files is not really about reminding myself of things I once did or said. Instead, it has become an opportunity to reflect on the past with a little more perspective and a little less emotion. It allows me to ask simple questions:

Was this really as important as I thought it was at the time?
Did it matter in the long run?
What did I learn from it?

In many ways, this process feels similar to walking through a familiar natural area in a different season. The landscape is the same, but your perspective changes depending on when you return.

What I once saw one way, I now see another.

So far, I must say that this little “file exploration” project has been a lot of fun. Each folder is like turning over a stone along a trail—you never quite know what you might find underneath.

Of course, it also raises another question.

What in the world am I going to do with all of this stuff?

For now, I’ll keep exploring.

After all, there are still a lot of folders left in that box.

But as I sit here looking at these old papers and photographs, another thought occurs to me.

Each piece of paper represents a moment when something seemed important enough to save. At the time, I probably had no idea how that moment would fit into the larger story of my life.

Now, decades later, I can begin to see the connections.

Projects that led to other projects.
People who opened doors at just the right moment.
Ideas that took years to grow into something meaningful.

In a strange way, this old banker’s box is not really a box of files at all.

It’s a map.

A map of the winding path that brought me from where I started to where I am today.

And judging by the number of folders still waiting to be explored, there are still plenty of dots left to connect.

A Beginning on the Bank of the Vlomankill

biodiversity, Communities, ecosystems, nature conservation, ,

I was standing on the bank of the Vlomankill in Henry Hudson Park a few days ago when a simple thought struck me with surprising force:

I need to understand the history of the land and water around the place I call home.

I’ve walked this stretch of the Vlomankill many times, but that morning something felt different. The stillness of the water, the stripped branches of winter, the muted light—together they made me feel as if I was standing in the middle of a story I didn’t yet know. A story shaped by geology, ecology, people, and choices made over centuries.

That’s when I realized: if I’m serious about stewardship, then this is where it begins. Not in theory, not in distant landscapes, but right here—learning the natural and cultural history of Bethlehem, New York, one walk, one question, one discovery at a time.

And as I thought about doing this work locally, it occurred to me that I could do the same in Indiana and Florida, the other places I spend part of each year. Three regions, each with their own story. Three places where I feel connected. And perhaps three starting points for a process that anyone could use to better understand the land beneath their feet.

So this Field Notes entry is the kickoff. A line in the sand—well, mud—where I begin documenting my observations, questions, and discoveries.

This is step one.

Where this leads, we’ll find out together. I already sense a larger article forming for The Nature of Things, one that explores not only this place but the broader idea of “discovering where you live.”

More soon.

A Quiet Encounter at Dusk: Discovering Nature’s Subtle Stories at Hollyhock Hollow Sanctuary

biodiversity, Communities, ecosystems, Native Plants, nature conservation, Parks & Sanctuaries, ,

By Ron Dodson
The Nature of Things

As the late evening light filtered through the canopy at Hollyhock Hollow Sanctuary, I found myself walking more slowly than usual. It wasn’t just the fading daylight urging caution—it was the stillness. A kind of hush had settled over the woods, interrupted only by the soft crunch of leaf litter beneath my boots and the occasional twitter of birds settling in for the night.

I’ve walked these trails many times, but something about the fading light always changes the feel of the place. It draws your eyes downward, where shadows dance across moss, bark, and understory. That’s when I noticed a plant I’ve seen often but rarely stopped to appreciate in detail.

Nestled near the edge of the trail, surrounded by leaf litter and the beginnings of autumn’s slow decline, was a graceful spray of leaves and a small cluster of berries—False Solomon’s Seal, or Maianthemum racemosum. Its long, arching stem bore alternate lance-shaped leaves, each delicately veined and gently tapering to a point. And dangling beneath one of those leaves were its berries—still ripening, mottled with hints of red and cream.

False Solomon’s Seal is one of those woodland plants that might go unnoticed by a casual hiker, yet it plays a quiet role in the forest’s rhythm. Unlike its more rigid cousin, Polygonatum (True Solomon’s Seal), which bears its flowers along the stem, Maianthemum keeps its blooms and berries clustered at the tip or just below the leaves. When in bloom, its feathery white flowers attract early pollinators. Now, late in the season, its fruit will become food for birds and small mammals.

I knelt beside it for a while, just observing. There were tiny holes in the leaves—evidence that something else had paused here before me. A beetle perhaps, or a caterpillar. The plant had done its part in the cycle of give and take.

In moments like this, I’m reminded why I return to places like Hollyhock Hollow. Not to check off species or log miles, but to encounter—quietly and without agenda—the lives of others who share this landscape.

As I continued on, the light dipped further and the woods took on that dusky blue hue that always makes me think of memory—how fleeting it can be, and how easily overlooked are the small details that become most meaningful in retrospect.

So if you find yourself walking a trail as the day begins to exhale, pause for the plants. Look for the berries, the chewed leaves, the stories etched in silence.

You might just find a kind of stillness you didn’t know you were missing.

Subscribe to my FREE Nature of Things Newsletter on Substack by clicking HERE

A Hot and Buggy Hike at Van Dyke Preserve

biodiversity, birds, Communities, ecosystems, nature conservation, , ,


By Ron Dodson
The Nature of Things | July 9, 2025

Theresa and I decided to take advantage of a sunny day and stretch our legs on the loop trail at the Van Dyke Preserve. Even though the thermometer was pushing 90 degrees, we figured the shade of the forest would offer at least some relief from the heat. In hindsight, we should have added “humidity” and “insects” to our considerations!

The 33-acre Van Dyke Preserve, managed by the Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy, is a lovely pocket of woodlands, wetlands, and meadows tucked into the Town of Bethlehem. The preserve winds along the Phillipin Kill, offering visitors a glimpse of native wildflowers, lush greenery, and, on most days, an impressive variety of birds.

Despite the intense heat, we were greeted by birdsong from several species, which I logged on eBird to contribute to citizen science efforts. The trail itself isn’t particularly long—we walked the loop twice—but the combination of high humidity and relentless insects made it feel much longer. The deer flies, gnats, and mosquitoes were some of the thickest I’ve ever experienced. I ended the hike with a shirt drenched in sweat, looking like I had taken a dip in the creek rather than just walked alongside it!

We spotted a few beautiful wildflowers along the way, including blooming Joe-Pye weed, delicate Forget-me-nots, and a lone Trillium still holding on with a late-season blossom. The creek was running quietly, reflecting the deep green of the surrounding forest. It was peaceful, despite the buzzing clouds of insects determined to keep us moving.

As we made our way back to the car, hot, sticky, and thoroughly bug-bitten, I told Theresa to remind me next time: Van Dyke Preserve is best saved for cooler, less buggy days. Still, it’s a lovely spot and worth returning to when the air is crisp and the bugs have called it quits for the season.

If you’re planning a visit, I recommend early spring or fall—and don’t forget to bring insect repellent no matter what time of year!

Heath Dairy Farm: A Living Legacy with New Potential

Communities, ecosystems, Farming, soil health, Wildlife & Plants, , , ,

By Ron Dodson
The Nature of Things

Several weeks ago, I had the pleasure of meeting with Lauren Axford, the Open Space Coordinator for the Town of Bethlehem, New York. The purpose of our meeting was to discuss a project that I believe has enormous potential—not only for our town but as a model that other communities could replicate. That project is the Heath Dairy Farm initiative, a town-led effort to preserve and reimagine one of Bethlehem’s most iconic agricultural properties.

You can learn more about the project here: https://www.historicheathfarm.com

What drew me to the Heath Dairy Project wasn’t just the scenic beauty or the historical significance of the property—although both are impressive. It was the idea that this land could serve as a foundation for a new kind of agricultural planning, one that blends conservation landscape management with local food production. It struck me that this was exactly the kind of opportunity we need more of—an intersection of environmental stewardship, local economic development, and community sustainability.

Our conversation was not only productive, it was personal. When my family and I first moved to Bethlehem, the very first home we rented was on land that had once been part of the Heath Dairy Farm. The home was owned by the daughter of the farm’s longtime owner. So, in many ways, I’ve had a direct connection to this land since the day I arrived. That connection gives added meaning to my interest in helping guide its next chapter.

During our meeting, I shared a bit about my background and my long-standing work in environmental and agricultural planning. I also gave Lauren a copy of a book I wrote several years ago about the American legacy of family farming. Our shared values made it clear to me that there is real potential for meaningful collaboration on this project.

After the meeting, Lauren followed up with a kind message and introduced me to another person who is actively involved in shaping the next steps for the Heath Dairy Project. I look forward to meeting them soon and learning more about the town’s vision.

As part of this dialogue, I also plan to introduce an initiative I’ve been developing called F.A.R.M.S., which stands for Food and Resource Management Sustainability. This framework emphasizes the importance of keeping local food systems economically viable while embedding conservation into the fabric of working landscapes. It’s a concept that I believe could align perfectly with the goals of the Heath Dairy Project.

I’m excited about what’s ahead and look forward to offering any volunteer support I can to help make this project a true example of what conservation-minded community development can look like. Projects like this remind us that the best way to honor the past is to build a future that holds true to the values that came before—land, food, family, and community.

The Rain Knows What It’s Doing

biodiversity, birds, Communities, ecosystems, Home Landscapes, nature conservation, Neighborhoods,

A Reflection from Just Down the Road in Upstate New York

By Ron Dodson

Sometimes, nature writes the best stories. You just have to walk down the road to read them.

The photo above was taken just a short stroll from our home in upstate New York. While the scene might suggest calm and quiet, the story behind it is one of relentless rain and resilience. Since November 2024, we’ve had rain nearly every weekend—steady, sometimes unrelenting. For months, it felt like we were living in a stretched-out season of puddles and mud.

But now, looking out over this meadow in June, you can see what the rain has been up to.

The fields are lush and bursting with green—every shade you can imagine. The grasses are tall, the wetland margins thick with sedges and reeds. Wildflowers and forbs are pushing up wherever there’s a sliver of light. Even the trees, stretching in layers toward the horizon, look as if they’ve drunk their fill and are ready for the next chapter of the growing season.

And while it might have dampened our plans, the rain made this place a sanctuary.

Migratory birds have arrived in full voice, their songs layered over the steady hum of insects and frogs. Red-winged blackbirds cling to cattails, swallows swoop low over the wet patches, and warblers flicker like thoughts through the understory. The marshy lowlands that might once have seemed impassable are now teeming—alive with the quiet work of renewal.

There’s something deeply reassuring about that.

We often forget that seasons aren’t just about us—the plans we make, the weekends we hope to spend dry and comfortable. For the land, the long wet spring has been a gift. A drink after drought. A healing balm. An invitation to grow again.

This place—this field, this view—is not exceptional in the way a national park or a famous wildlife refuge might be. It’s just a piece of ordinary land at the edge of a rural road. But to those who live nearby, and to the creatures who pass through, it is home. It is a promise kept.

And maybe that’s the real nature of things: when we learn to see beauty in the overlooked, in the soggy corners and weedy edges, we come a little closer to understanding our place in the world. The rain may have changed our routines, but it also gave us this.

Let’s not forget to be grateful.

New Year – New Goals!

biodiversity, Communities, Home Landscapes, nature conservation, Neighborhoods, Parks & Sanctuaries, Wildlife & Plants

A belated Happy New Year!

I spent the last month or so of 2021 thinking seriously about what I have been doing over the past few years and have come to the decision that I have not been doing the things that I really want to do. So…I am changing my focus and my direction. What I am actually doing is “re-focusing” on my life-long mission connected with nature conservation and to get more people involved with nature where they live, work, and play. With that, I also believe that we all must truly “Think Global and Act Local.”

So, to “think global” I have created the Natural Communities Campaign. The Ultimate goal is to protect 50% of the Earth by the year 2050 as protected areas and reverse the tremendous downward spiral we are witnessing at present in the loss of biodiversity. To learn more click: Half-Earth.

An interim goal for the Natural Communities Campaign is to support the global effort underway to secure the protection of biologically rich areas of Earth to the tune of 30% of the planet by the year 2030, which is being called the 30X30 Project. Through the Natural Communities Campaign website and blog, I will be providing ongoing information about global biodiversity matters and updates on progress being made regarding the 30X30 project.

To bring the 30X30 global goal down to a national and local level, I have launched an initiative called Conservation Landscapes for America. Through the Conservation Landscapes for America website and blog, I will be providing information about the 30X30 Project in the United States and well as supporting and showcasing government agencies, non-government agencies, and private landowners who are practicing conservation landscape management on the lands and waters that they are responsible for.

 

In addition to the biodiversity-related goals, another main goal is to get more people involved in nature and natural resource management where they live, work, and play. I hope that the information provided on the two websites mentioned above will become a “one-stop-shop” of sorts for information about nature, biodiversity efforts, resources that people can use to start or grow their own nature-based initiatives at home, in their communities, their counties, regions, etc.

Finally, this Nature of Things website and blog will be managed as a “portal” to the two other websites mentioned, but the Nature of Things blog will focus on my personal nature and biodiversity efforts in three local regions in the United States; the Capital Region of New York, the Tampa Bay Region of Florida and the Southwestern Region of Indiana.

A Walk in the Woods

Communities, Neighborhoods, Wildlife & Plants

After several days above 90 degrees, it cooled down nicely today. It seemed like a grand day for a walk in the woods. We decided to make a short drive to a local nature preserve that is under the stewardship of the Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy that is just a couple of miles from your house. The preserve is called the Touhey Family Preserve. The preserve is a 49-acre gem that is a small part of what was once a huge stretch of land that had been in the Touhey family for many years.

As the area around Delmar, NY continues to grow and expand these area preserves will continue to grow in importance. The trails are nice and include a few stretches of boardwalks through more “boggy” parts of the woodlands.

There is a small graveled parking area from which the loop trail begins. There is also a short in and back trail that goes to an adjoining pond for views of ducks and other critters that live in that habitat.

The trails are nearly all through shady forested areas and very easy walking. Some areas are bordered by steep ravines providing birds-eye views of dense undergrowth areas that are great for Wood Thrush and other forest birds.

A few areas of the trail runs through moist areas of the preserve but the Conservancy has installed boardwalks on those sections of the trail to reduce erosion being caused by the hikers that frequent the preserve.

We walked the trail both in a clockwise and counter-clockwise direction so as to turn the half-mile walk into a mile walk. It was a very pleasant short venture into nature and proves once again that you don’t have to search all that far to find some great places to get back to the nature of things.

Happy New Year!

Communities, Neighborhoods, Parks & Sanctuaries, Wildlife & Plants, , , , , , , ,

What a year 2020 has been! I am afraid that at the least the beginning of 2021 is going to be a continuation and quite possibly a bit worse until the virus vaccination is widely distributed. Theresa and I, have essentially isolated ourselves from family and friends since March 2020. However, with quite a bit of planning, we were able to at least enjoy a few family gatherings, while appropriately distanced and/or masked up.

On the other hand, we did not distance ourselves from nature. We spent considerable time hiking on trails of various nature preserves, sanctuaries, and parks. We either “re-discovered” places where we previously hiked or discovered new places that we have failed to visit in the past. So, even if we were not able to participate in many activities that we wanted to…we did have a very enjoyable past several months.

We are making plans for continued hikes in the months ahead too. Many of our “evening hikes” were just down the road where we live…but those walks were almost always memorable too, as we captured many sunset pictures, discovered new plants and animals right here in our own “neighborhood.”

I decided to put together a video that captures some of those special moments with family and in nature, which can be viewed below. These pictures are not in any particular order, but just random snapshots of fun memories during the year 2020. I have not identified within the video where the pictures were taken, but several of those special places include lands that are managed by the Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy, Albany Pine Bush Commission, West Boggs Park, the City of Albany, NY, Rensselaer Land Trust, Schenectady County, NY, John James Audubon State Park, and several other locations as well.

Anyway…here is wishing you a great 2021 and no matter what… I hope you will get outdoors and discover and enjoy nature. The video below is just under 5 minutes in length…hope you don’t get bored!

 

Hindostan Indiana

Communities, Wildlife & Plants, , , ,

There are several places around the Dodson Family Camp that we try and visit each year that we are in the area. Most of them are places that my Dad and Mom also liked to visit often and when there were living, we all went together each visit to see if everything still looked the same from year to year and to think back about days long gone. It is interesting to think about how important nature was to those frontier people when they were settling America. And back then the “highways” toward progress always were connected with rivers.

One of those places has always been fascinating to me. I have often thought that the story of Hindostan, Indiana could form the foundation for a great novel. I know that there have been many booklets written about the place, but as far as I know, there has never been an actual novel about the place or the people who lived there.

Hindostan was founded at the falls of the East Fork of the White River in 1816. The settlement sat along the original stagecoach route between New Albany and Vincennes and was one of the only roads in the new state of Indiana, which had been a territory until 1816. By 1820, it was the largest community in what was then still Daviess County and the most promising town on the White River. The town was named “Hindostan” by a soldier, Captain Caleb Fellows, an English immigrant who had served with the British East India Company in India before he came to the United States and invested in land along the still raw Indiana frontier.

When Hindostan was “booming” there was a large mill located directly on a rock outcropping in the river. And when the water is low one can still see where the posts that supported the mill were located. Over the years this stretch of the river has always been a popular fishing spot too.

However, by 1820, about 1,200 people lived in the new town, making it one of the largest settlements in frontier Indiana. Many lived on houseboats on the White River. The surge of the population toward new land on the Indiana and Illinois frontiers, as well as Hindostan’s location along the stagecoach route, meant that it was constantly open to carriers of the disease. The disease eventually destroyed the town.

An epidemic of yellow fever or cholera broke out in Hindostan in 1820. Water- and insect-borne illnesses were the bane of many towns on the Midwestern frontier. Situated along rivers for the purpose of easy transportation, towns were often built on flood plains that bred insects in huge numbers. The ferocity of the epidemic that struck Hindostan, however, caused the population to succumb to disease or abandon the area. By 1824, less than half the population remained in Hindostan, though many seem to have stayed in the county.

An economic depression around 1820 worked alongside the epidemic to drive people away. Some families who had bought land on credit defaulted and fled the area. Hindostan may have lost as many residents to the economic depression as to sickness. Residents who remained were unable to pay their taxes and county and local creditors foreclosed on their property.

According to rumor, a county tax collector had several thousand dollars of revenue in his possession when he fell ill during the epidemic. He was thought to have buried the money (gold and silver coins) in an iron pot for safekeeping until the illness passed. When he died, the money’s location was lost forever.

Faced with the gradual desertion of the town, the post office, which was established in 1819, was discontinued on December 29, 1830. The site of the prosperous town eventually became farmland.

In 1828, the county seat was relocated to Mt. Pleasant, several miles away. The townsite was then abandoned by most of its residents in 1853 for a nearby site, now called Loogootee, four miles from Hindostan. The county seat, however, was moved to Trinity Springs, a health spa, then to Shoals in 1871. Shoals today has a population of around 800 which puts it at about 400 people less than Hindostan before it vanished.

Fishing near Hindostan Falls has always been a popular pastime. And the State of Indiana has created a boat launch above the falls so that boaters and people who enjoy fishing can easily access the water.

 

 

I think the video below that someone did a few years back gives a pretty good overview of Hindostan Falls and the general area around the falls today.