Tag Archives: nature hikes

The Sound of a Season Passing

Field Notes — July 20, 2026

Early this evening, I went for a short walk in a nature preserve in Bethlehem, New York. As usual, I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. I was just walking and noticing.

The first thing I noticed was something that wasn’t there.

Birdsong.

The preserve was surprisingly quiet. I heard very few birds and saw only a couple of robins. Just a few weeks ago, the woods seemed alive with birds singing, calling, establishing territories, and raising their young.

Now, things are changing.

The spring migrants have long since passed through on their journeys farther north, and many of the birds that nest here are mostly finished with the busiest part of their nesting season. There isn’t as much reason to sing as there was earlier in the year.

The seasons are moving along.

Then I began noticing some of the things that were there.

A few fungi.

Different plants.

And Joe-Pye weed beginning to flower—a plant I associate with mid- to late summer here in upstate New York.

I didn’t need a calendar to tell me that summer is moving along. The preserve told me.

Less birdsong. Joe-Pye weed blooming.

Those were my Notice Moments today.

Sometimes we notice something because it suddenly appears.

And sometimes we notice because something that was once all around us has quietly disappeared.

Either way, nature is always telling us something.

We just have to notice.

The Value of a Hole in a Tree

Most people walking a nature trail probably wouldn’t give a second thought to a hole in an old tree. A few days ago, while hiking through a small nature preserve near my home, I stopped to look more closely at this one.

As a biologist, I immediately recognized it as a cavity likely excavated by a Pileated Woodpecker. These impressive birds, nearly crow-sized, use their powerful bills to carve nesting and roosting cavities into dead or declining trees.

But what caught my attention wasn’t just the woodpecker. It was the reminder that this hole represents something much larger: the importance of leaving some dead and dying trees standing whenever they do not pose a safety risk to people, homes, or other structures.

Wildlife biologists often refer to birds as either primary cavity nesters or secondary cavity nesters.

Primary cavity nesters, such as Pileated Woodpeckers, Downy Woodpeckers, and Hairy Woodpeckers, create their own nesting cavities. Secondary cavity nesters, however, cannot excavate cavities themselves. Species such as Chickadees, Bluebirds, Tree Swallows, some owls, and even certain ducks depend on cavities that have already been created by woodpeckers or formed naturally through decay.

In many ways, woodpeckers serve as nature’s carpenters. Their work provides homes not only for themselves, but for an entire community of wildlife that follows.

And the story doesn’t end with birds.

Tree cavities may also shelter squirrels, bats, flying squirrels, raccoons, insects, salamanders, and countless other creatures. What appears to be a simple hole in a tree is actually a valuable piece of habitat.

As people, we often focus on living trees—and rightly so. But standing dead trees, sometimes called “snags,” play an equally important role in healthy ecosystems. A forest without a few snags is a little like a neighborhood without apartments. There simply aren’t enough places for many residents to live.

The next time you encounter an old tree with a cavity along a trail, pause for a moment. What looks like decay may actually be a sign of life. Someone built that home, someone may be living there now, and many others may depend on it in the years ahead.

Sometimes a hole in a tree tells a much bigger story than we realize.

Ron Dodson
The Nature of Things 🌿

A Walk Through Van Dyke Spinney Preserve

Yesterday evening, Theresa and I decided to take a short walk through the Van Dyke Spinney Preserve, located less than a mile from our home in the Town of Bethlehem, New York.

This 33-acre preserve was accepted by the Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy in 2012 as part of the permitting process for a nearby residential development. What might appear to be a small tract of land on a map provides an impressive diversity of habitats, including forests, wetlands, floodplain communities, and stream corridors.

The preserve features a gently rolling one-mile loop trail that winds through mature woodlands and alongside portions of the Phillipinkill, a tributary of the Vlomans Kill, which eventually flows into the Hudson River. Along the trail, visitors encounter small bridges, seasonal wetlands, towering trees, native wildflowers, and quiet views of the stream as it meanders through the floodplain.

One of the things I appreciate most about Van Dyke Spinney Preserve is how accessible it is. Located at 246 Van Dyke Road in Delmar, New York, the preserve includes a convenient parking area and offers an easy opportunity to spend an hour immersed in nature without traveling far from home.

During our walk, the forest was alive with the soft light of early evening filtering through the canopy. Forget-me-nots bloomed along the trail edges, the Phillipinkill reflected the surrounding greenery like a mirror, and the cool, shaded woods provided a welcome escape from the day’s heat. It was a reminder that meaningful encounters with nature do not require a trip to a national park or a remote wilderness area. Sometimes they can be found just down the road.

Places like Van Dyke Spinney Preserve demonstrate the value of local land conservation. They protect water quality, provide wildlife habitat, preserve natural beauty, and offer nearby residents a chance to reconnect with the natural world. For those of us interested in conservation and stewardship, they also serve as living classrooms where we can observe, learn, and simply enjoy the wonders of nature.

As I often remind readers of The Nature of Things, stewardship begins by noticing things. A short walk on a local trail can lead to discoveries, appreciation, and ultimately a deeper connection with the places we call home.


A Walk Through the Gladys E. Douglas Preserve

A few weeks ago, while spending some time in Dunedin, Florida, I decided to take a walk through a relatively new nature preserve that the City has opened to the public — the Gladys E. Douglas Preserve.It is not a large preserve, but sometimes the size of a place has very little to do with its value.

The trail winds through a habitat known as sand pine scrub, a landscape that developed on deep sandy soils left behind long ago when sea levels were much higher and much of Florida was underwater. What remains today are scattered ridges and sandy uplands that support a very specialized community of plants and animals adapted to dry, nutrient-poor conditions.

Walking the trail, you quickly notice that this is not the lush, tropical Florida many visitors imagine. Instead, it has a quieter character — sand underfoot, low scrub vegetation, scattered cactus, palmettos, and sand pines with their long soft needles catching the sunlight.

But as is often the case in nature, the real interest is found when you slow down and start looking closer.

Along the trail I noticed patches of pale gray lichens scattered across the sandy ground like small islands of frost resting among fallen pine needles. Nearby, a low cluster of prickly pear cactus pushed up through the sand, quietly reminding anyone paying attention that life in this habitat requires a certain toughness.

On one pine trunk, rows of delicate white fungi had formed along the bark, almost like someone had traced lines up the tree with a careful hand. It looked like nature’s own quiet artwork.

Places like this may seem small on a map, but they play an important role in protecting habitats that are becoming increasingly rare as development spreads across Florida. They also provide something that is becoming harder to find — a place where people can simply walk, observe, and reconnect with the natural world around them.

For me, that is often the real value of a place like this.

A short walk, a few photographs, and a reminder that even the smallest preserves can hold a surprising amount of life — if we take the time to notice.

If you ever find yourself in the Dunedin area, this little preserve is certainly worth a visit.

And if you go, take your time.

Nature rarely reveals its best stories to people who are in a hurry.