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.
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When we first moved to the Albany, NY area in 1982 I opened my first office in Delmar, NY because I believed that is where the NY Department of Environmental Conservation was located. It actually took me several months to figure out that the main headquarters of DEC was actually several miles north of Delmar in a large building on Wolf Road, Colonie, NY. However, the State Non-gave and endangered species offices and leadership were located in Delmar at what is now called the Five Rivers Environmental Education Center. Five Rivers is located just a few miles from our home. The DEC staff located at Five Rivers, became some of my closest friends and comrades during my 5 year stint working for the National Audubon Society in the Northeast.
Five Rivers Environmental Education Center is a living museum comprising over 450 acres of fields, forests, and wetlands. Located in the Capital District, the center provides a variety of easily accessible programs and services for individuals, families and organized groups. In recognition of outstanding interpretive programming, the National Park Service has designated Five Rivers a National Environmental Study Area.
Over a century ago, much of the vicinity around what is now the Five Rivers was covered by extensive orchards. As the Great Depression took hold, many hard-scrabble farms could no longer make ends meet. In 1933, the New York State Conservation Department purchased two of these farms to develop the Delmar Experimental Game Farm. At the time, populations of upland game birds and waterfowl were in serious decline. The primary mission of the facility was to learn more about the propagation and management of these species.
From 1933-36, the Civilian Conservation Corps Camp S-72 put up buildings, fences and developed access roads throughout the property to prepare the site for game farming. CCC crews also created ponds by damming the Vlomankill, using limestone blocks salvaged from the abandoned Watervliet Lock of the old Erie Canal. In succeeding years, CCC crews created several additional duck-rearing ponds and erected several additional buildings for brooding, hatching and rearing upwards of 100,000 grouse and pheasant chicks per year. Each fall, the upland game birds and waterfowl were released on state lands throughout New York. The Canada geese that nest at Five Rivers today are thought to be descended from birds originally raised here.
So as to re-direct increasing public interest away from the sensitive conservation research activities on site, in 1948 staff began developing a modest exhibition of caged wildlife in the area adjacent to the main parking lot. The menagerie came to be known far and wide as the Delmar Zoo, and firmly established the site as a vibrant educational institution. Tens of thousands of families and school group visited this remarkable collection annually. In 1970 there was a major reorganization of the Conservation Department, from which the current Department of Environmental Conservation emerged. As a result of this reorganization, priorities of the Department were reoriented and the Game Farm and Zoo were closed.
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.
We moved to Albany County, New York in the autumn of 1982. I hate to admit that it has taken us 38 years to discover the Albany Pine Bush. Discover might be a bit harsh because we knew it was there and had attended numerous meetings in the Pine Bush Discovery Center over the years. We had even taken a couple of short walks in the preserve and one year attended the springtime Lupine Festival held at the Discovery Center.