Fish, Floods, and Dam Removal

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Tack Factory Dam in Hanover. Photo courtesy of NSRWA.

 The South Shore has a rich industrial history. In centuries past, there were water-powered mills on nearly every river and stream -- mills for sawing logs, for grinding grain, for making boxes, and plenty more. For every mill there was a dam.

The South Shore also has a history rich in anadromous (migratory) fish. Herring, shad, alewives -- fish that swim upstream to spawn. Before European settlement, the Native American tribes that inhabited our region knew when to expect these fish in our rivers, and planned their food gathering cycle accordingly. The herring were abundant. Accounts from the Pilgrims and their contemporaries relate scenes in which herring populated the rivers so densely that one could practically cross the water on their backs!

But what happened when a migratory fish encountered a dam? Could it still swim upstream?

Yes and no. Some dams were small enough that stronger fish could propel themselves right over them. Some streams were outfitted with fish ladders (but most were not). So while our region experienced an industrial boom in the 1700s, it also saw its numbers of anadromous fish drop.

The mills are all but gone now -- most of the factories too. Unfortunately, most of the fish are as well. Long ago, our region’s industries relocated to cities like Brockton, but the dams remained. And while the original structures – made of wood, and subject to rot – may not have stood the test of time, the replacement dams – made of less-susceptible concrete and rebar – in many cases have. And thus the fish cannot make it upstream to their spawning grounds.

This is not a new problem. Many of the dams in our region are more than 100 years old, so the breeding habits of anadromous fish have been stymied for a century already. Declining numbers of herring have led to declining cod populations, but that’s a story for another day. What’s making dam removal a hot topic these days is a more far-reaching concern: flooding.

There is a common misperception that dams prevent flooding. In one way, they do – they hold back the flow of water, so that only a controlled portion goes downstream. But in the meantime, what’s happening on the other side of the dam? Upstream, the flood water collects and begins to back up and overflow. Streams swell, marshes fill with water, roads become flooded, and the increasing pressure on the dam raises the threat of a breach. In 2005, portions of downtown Taunton were evacuated when heavy rains strained the Mill River’s Whittendon Dam to the breaking point.

These days, there is a lot of talk about dam removal. It seems simple enough: remove the dams so the rivers can flow freely. The flood water won’t back up, and the fish will be able to return – at last! – to their spawning grounds.

Unfortunately, dam removal is expensive. It also requires years and years of work. There are engineering studies and environmental impact studies. There are pages and pages of permits to be obtained. There is the formidable task of getting all of the landowners and abutters to support and sign off on the project. And then there is the work itself: diverting the stream, deconstructing the dam in an environmentally sound manner, and rebuilding the landscape to facilitate the flow of the rehabilitated stream.

But it can be done! One shining example is the Wapping Road Dam on the Jones River in Kingston. Planning for the removal of this dam began in the 1990s. The structure itself was removed in 2011. Post-project monitoring work is ongoing, even as the Jones River Watershed Association (JRWA) embarks on a new project to remove a dam nearby at Forge Pond. For a captivating glimpse at the JRWA’s first successful dam removal project, search online for the “Wapping Road Dam Story” video, or follow this link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RrS4VoV4ZI&feature=c4-overview&list=UUuuFa7Ehbc63xtGpXflNoCw

Meanwhile on the Third Herring Brook, a tributary to the North River that flows through Hanover and Norwell, the North and South Rivers Watershed Association has embarked upon dam removal projects at both Mill Pond and Tack Factory Pond. On the former, owned by the South Shore YMCA, the dam will be removed in 2014. On the latter, owned by Cardinal Cushing Centers, the dam removal project in the funding and permitting phase.

Wapping Road, Forge Pond, Mill Pond and Tack Factory: these dams – their histories and the stories about their removal processes -- are each worthy of their own article. I hope to discuss each of them in further detail in the future.

by Kezia Bacon

November 2013 
 

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

Blue Hills Reservation

The author at Blue Hills Reservation.

For years I’ve been aware of the Blue Hill Reservation, which spans parts of Quincy, Braintree, Milton, Randolph, Canton and Dedham. I’ve written about the Blue Hills Ski Area, but not the reservation itself. Truth is, I’m just beginning to get to know the place. And although I walked sections of it with friends two decades ago, it really hasn’t been on my radar. Until now.

This summer I signed up for a Meet Up group called the Blue Hills Hiking Club. Meet Up is a website devoted to helping like-minded people make connections. So for example, if you like to kayak but don’t want to go alone and have trouble finding friends whose schedules match up with yours, you can join a local kayaking group, and “meet up” with others in the group at designated times/places.

When I stumbled upon it, the Blue Hills Hiking Club sounded like a great idea – an opportunity to explore the Blue Hills with people who already knew their way around. Plus the club offered events nearly every day – hikes on various trails, with differing levels of ability. It took some time, but I finally found one that fit into my schedule.

So on a Sunday at the end of September, I headed up to Milton for the “Easy to Moderate Yellow Triangle Loop,” a hike that would take us up and around Great Blue Hill, and show us the way to the summit (an extension of the hike that we would save for another day).

Pulling off Route 93 onto Blue Hill River Road gave me a “not in Kansas anymore” feeling. One minute I’m on the highway, and the next I’m driving up a road lined with trees and picnic areas. Turning right into the heart of the reservation, I saw trailheads and wooded hills that reminded me of the national parks out west.

Blue Hills Reservation is huge – a 7,000 acre oasis in the middle of an otherwise bustling urban environment. And it’s varied – there are two large ponds (Houghton’s and Ponkapoag); rivers, swamps and bogs; 16 historic structures; and a total of 22 hills. A vast network of trails provides access to nearly every acre. The most popular feature is Great Blue Hill, which stands 635 feet tall and offers an expansive view of the Boston metropolitan area. Plus there is a museum and a weather observatory, both of which I will profile in future columns.

The park dates back to 1893, when the Metropolitan Parks Commission set the land aside for public recreation. These days the state Department of Conservation and Recreation (DCR) oversees it. Over the years it’s become a popular destination for those seeking a variety of recreational pursuits. Blue Hills offers easy flat trails, as well a steep rocky ones. Some are open to mountain bikes and horseback riders. Houghton’s Pond welcomes swimmers and anglers, and features a snack pavilion. Ponkapoag Pond offers a canoe launch plus rustic cabins for camping. The adjacent Quincy Quarries Reservation, managed by Boston’s Metropolitian District Commission, is open to rock climbers. And of course the downhill ski area is a seasonal favorite.

The hike I attended in September served as an excellent introduction to the reservation itself. We started from the trailhead behind the park headquarters (next to the Milton State Police barracks) and headed up a wide and sometimes rocky road. By “up” I mean “uphill.” It was much steeper than the average walk one enjoys on the South Shore, and I relished the challenge.

From there we turned onto a loop marked by yellow triangles, which went all the way around Great Blue Hill. I was grateful to be with a group, as there were numerous intersections on the 4-mile circuit. The DCR’s map describes the route as “rocky, rugged and hilly,” and indeed it was. I can see why runners and hikers who are preparing for mountain events do some of their training at Blue Hills.

Our hike lasted just under two hours. The 20-or-so attendants, ranging in age from late-20s to mid-60s, formed a loose pack, with a leader at the front and a “sweep” at the back to ensure that no one got lost. We stopped at major intersections for questions and quick breathers, but mostly kept moving at a steady pace. I will definitely be going back for more.

With 125 miles of trails in the Blue Hills Reservation, there is something for everyone. Maps are available online (see below) and also are for sale at the park headquarters. Trails marked with a green dot are gentler woodland loops. Red dots signify the rocky, rugged, more challenging terrain. Yellow dots mark the shorter loop trails.

Follow this link for more information on, and a map of, the Blue Hills Reservation.

(http://www.mass.gov/eea/agencies/dcr/massparks/region-south/blue-hills-reservation.html)

by Kezia Bacon

September 2013

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

Boys in the Woods

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The Teeple, Morey, Beal and Bernstein children prepare for a walk at Willow Brook Farm Preserve in Pembroke.

Anyone who reads this column regularly knows that I enjoy a good walk in the woods. Dedicated readers also know that I have a son, Abel, who is now seven years old. I’ve been taking Abel for nature walks since he was an infant – first in a Baby Bjorn carrier, then in a jog stroller, and later with him walking along beside me. He really enjoyed these outings when he was little. Now, not so much. “It’s boring, Mom.”

But last spring I figured out a way to make it less boring. Invite friends. Not just one or two, but a whole pack of them. Boys plus woods equals fun! So this summer I planned a few group nature walks, inviting some of Abel’s friends and their families to join us at some of the more child-friendly local conservation properties. And I was delighted to see that it worked. The boys had fun . . . and the adults enjoyed themselves as well.

Our first exploration was at the Norris Reservation on Dover Street in Norwell, which is managed by The Trustees of Reservations. I’d picked up this year’s South Shore Quests booklet, so we followed the route suggested there, looking for clues that would ultimately reveal where the Quests box was hidden (an opportunity for us to sign a guest book and stamp our Quest passport). The clues gave us a compelling reason to carry on, despite some wet weather, but I’m not sure we even needed the incentive. The boys were quite happy to be scampering up and down the trails, finding and carrying big sticks, and looking for snakes and frogs – they found plenty of the latter. I didn’t bother to try to teach them anything about the land we were exploring – except when they asked, and they had some good questions – but instead I just let them absorb the forest environment, and enjoy themselves. And they did.

Our second trip followed another South Shore Quest, this time at Willow Brook Farm Preserve on Route 14 in Pembroke (the property is managed by the Wildlands Trust of Southeastern Massachusetts). The weather was better, and the boys (plus a couple girls this time) once again found simple ways to entertain themselves. Climbing on boulders and fallen trees was as big a hit as climbing the tall wooden observation tower. But it seemed like simply moving in a pack – there were eight or nine children altogether – was the real attraction. Something primal was happening among those kids – they really enjoyed being outside together, following a trail and some basic “stay within my sight” type of rules, but otherwise being able to make their own fun. We went on from that excursion to a stop at The Blueberry Farm in Hanson, for Pick Your Own berries, which made the day even more special.

I’m hoping to continue these group nature outings throughout the year. I do understand how a simple walk in the woods, even with plenty of flora and fauna to investigate, might not be all that appealing to a youngster, but I think we’re onto something here, with the group dynamic. If anything, it's a welcome alternative to all of the other organized activities these children participate in. Dance/art/music classes, sports, martial arts – and of course school – all have their place, but it’s really nice to be outdoors with the kids, doing nothing in particular except following a trail through the woods or a meadow, and seeing what the children are inspired to do.

by Kezia Bacon

August 2013

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

Whale Watch!

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 Summer vacation is short this year – only eight weeks. At the end of June, I make a list of the things I want to do with my son this summer. Going on a Whale Watch is right at the top, and we get right to it, heading out of Plymouth Harbor on a Captain John Boat only two days after school ends.

I have to admit, I am nervous. I’ve been on whale watches only twice before, both in middle school. For the first one, it was really cold on the water, and I wasn’t dressed properly. The whales we saw were too far away to make an impact on my seventh-grade self. For the second one, a year later, it was dark and rainy, and my lasting memory was of getting seasick. So for this trip, I am staving off worried visions of a bored son and his woozy mother.

The forecast is not great as we head down to Plymouth – showers and a chance of thunderstorms. It’s some consolation that it’s the same forecast we often have in the summer around here, with the stormy weather only materializing about half the time. The sky is blue, and with a bag full of snacks, rain gear, and warm layers, we – my son, my mother, my uncle and I -- are as ready as we can be.

We board the boat and find seats up top, for the best view. After a quick safety review, the on-board naturalist and her assistant give us an overview of the geography of Cape Cod Bay and Stellwagen Bank, as well as a primer on the types of whales we might see at this time of year.

It’s an hour’s journey out to Stellwagen Bank, which is a primary feeding ground for whales. There’s plenty to learn along the way, with landmarks such as Plymouth Rock, Bug Light, Clark’s Island and Saquish all within view. We pick up speed as we hit the open ocean. It’s exhilarating and refreshing . . . especially since we are leaving behind some oppressive humidity.

The boat slows as we approach another touring company’s vessel. Our guide advises us to look off to the right, and everyone on the top deck moves to the railing on the starboard side and peers off into the distance. And then there it is! A finback whale surfaces and dives, surfaces and dives. The guide explains that a whale will do this three or four times in a row, so we continue to watch, and there it is again, surfacing and diving one more time before it disappears into the sea.

We spend the next hour shifting, en masse, from one side of the boat to the other, following the cues of our guides. We watch one finback for a while, then give it a break, and motor off to another likely location for a sighting. Then we are treated to a similar series of appearances by another finback. The Captain John company participates in the Proud Whale Sense program, and follows the guidelines intended to prevent harassment of wildlife, so we don’t stay with any single animal for very long.

Dark clouds move in. The guide advises us to take cover, and most of the passengers go down into the enclosed lower level, where there are windows, restrooms and a snack bar. My son and I hang out down there for a little while, but he grows restless, so we go back up top. It’s raining, but not very heavily.

Soon, a minke whale makes a brief appearance . . . but then nothing more. We are now about 2.5 hours into the four-hour tour, and my seven year-old is getting antsy, so we decide it’s time to explore the boat. We find our way out onto the small observation deck at the bow, on the lower level, just in time to see the minke surface again, about ten feet away! Amazing! It was interesting to see whales from a distance, but right up close like that is something else entirely. Thrilling. We have definitely gotten our money’s worth now.

It’s still raining, and soon it is time to head back to shore. The captain puts the boat into high gear, and we enjoy watching the wake pattern as we motor back toward land. In time, the rain passes, and the sun begins to emerge from the clouds. We arrive in Plymouth Harbor refreshed -- and delighted to have seen a minke whale so close to the boat.

If you’re contemplating a whale watch, you can find out about schedules and prices on Captain John’s website (http://captjohn.com/). The tours run through the end of October. For more specific information about daily sightings, check out the staff naturalists’ blog (http://captainjohnboats.blogspot.com/) where there are narratives about some of the whale watch trips, and lots of photos.

by Kezia Bacon

July 2013 

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

A Nature Pledge To My 7-Year-Old Son

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Abel explores the banks of the Cut River in Green Harbor.

  My son, Abel, just finished first grade at South River Elementary School in Marshfield, the place where I too attended first grade. Because, so far, we have traveled similar paths, in many ways, I feel like I am reliving my childhood through him.

It’s a treat to be able to introduce Abel to many of the things I enjoyed as a kid. Although times have changed – the 2010s are in many ways different from the 1970s – much has stayed the same here on the South Shore, in terms of the landscape and the natural world.

My parents offered my sister and me a diverse array of experiences throughout our youth. I hope to do the same for Abel. And thus I make this pledge.

To my son, who is now seven:

You seem to have rounded some corner this year, where you are now ready to try all sorts of new things. We are fortunate to live in a beautiful place that offers an abundance of opportunity for outdoor fun and exploration. I figure I have a window of at least a few years, before you are too cool to hang out with your mom. And thus, before you head off to middle school, we will do the following.

We will go camping. We will find a flat spot and pitch a tent, and figure out how to get comfortable in the woods for a night or two. We will invite friends along, and have a campfire, and stay up way too late, and wake to the sound of the forest coming alive at dawn.

We will explore every aspect of the beach. We will find tide pools, and don masks and snorkels, and stick our faces in the water to see what goes on just below the surface. We will learn to bodysurf in the waves. We will investigate the wrack line and see what has washed up on shore. We will walk on jetties. We will stroll the hard-packed sand at the end of the day, when we need to unwind and cool off. We will master the fine art of napping in our beach chairs.

We will learn more about the ocean. We will join our friends on their boats, and view our coast from offshore. We will go on a whale watch, and – if you want to --  take sailing lessons, or surfing lessons. Perhaps we can find someone to teach us how to fish.

We will get to know our rivers and ponds. Just like your grandparents did, we will organize canoe trips, and explore the North and South Rivers with our family and friends. We will check out the Green Harbor River, and the Indian Head, and the Jones. We will kayak and SUP (stand-up paddle board) in the marsh creeks. We will explore the ponds of Plymouth and Pembroke. We will swim in places other than our backyard pool.

We will get to know our local conservation areas. We will walk in the woods, and through meadows, and along the rivers and the shore. We will get a sense of our region’s agricultural history by exploring old farms. We will pick strawberries and blueberries in the summer, and apples and pumpkins in the fall. We will visit all of your mother’s favorite walking places, and try some new ones as well. You too will develop favorites. Someday we will climb Great Blue Hill.

We will spend time outdoors in the winter too. We will skate on frozen bogs and ponds. We will go sledding. We will continue to hone our skiing and snowboarding skills at Blue Hills, so that someday we can try the taller mountains up north.

And we will spend time outdoors at night. We will take our dinners down to the beach and have sunset picnics. We will watch the moon rise. We will watch for meteor showers in August. We will learn about fireflies, and bats, and the stars.

In short, I want to instill in you a “natural literacy.” I want for you to be familiar with every aspect of the place where we live, and to develop an affinity for it. I hope that, in time, you will feel a sense of stewardship – a desire to preserve our natural world, and to protect it.

And I want you to see how it all comes together. When I was around your age, my dad took me for a scenic flight above Marshfield. Someday soon we will do this too, so you can get a sense of how it looks from above. Down here on the ground, it seems like we’re surrounded by asphalt. I suspect that you – like me -- will be astounded by how much green and blue you can see from the sky.

Abel, more than anything, I hope that your innate curiosity will guide us into experiences that are new for both of us. I want to teach you what I know, but I want to learn from you as well. I look forward to the day when you’re taking the lead on these matters: suggesting that we learn more about foraging, for example, or birding, or even golf! 

by Kezia Bacon

June 2013

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

Camp Wing Conservation Area (Duxbury)

A view of the marsh at Camp Wing.

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I continued my exploration of Duxbury’s open space parcels this month with a trip to Camp Wing Conservation Area on Franklin Street. Initially I was really excited about exploring this large (353-acre) parcel, until I glanced at the map and saw that most of it is wetland. It turns out that only about a fifth of it contains walking trails.

This isn’t such a bad thing. Conservation land that’s not accessible to humans is ideal habitat for wildlife, as it gives it room to roam, so to speak, without the threat of human impact. In the Camp Wing Conservation Area, a two-mile stretch of the South River, along with a variety of marsh and swamp lands, provides a sanctuary for all sorts of birds and critters.

The Town of Duxbury has put maps of its conservation lands online, along with general information about what one can expect to find there. Even after writing this nature column for eighteen-plus years, I feel like I’m just getting started with my knowledge of ecology. So just glancing at the Camp Wing map, I learned a few things.

The Camp Wing Conservation Area features four different types of wetland. One is what’s known as stream-side marsh – the grassy sort of wetland favored by migratory birds. The marsh borders both the South River and its tributary, Phillips Brook. There is also a fair amount of red maple swamp, filled with – you guessed it – red maple trees. And there is also some shrub swamp – where plant species such as blueberry, alder and sweet pepperbush dominate. And finally, there is some fen – a wetland that’s more mossy than the others. (In this case, it’s a former cranberry bog).

Camp Wing itself has been around for generations. It first opened in 1937 as a summer camp for 55 children from the Roxbury and Charlestown Boys’ Clubs. It was named in honor of Daniel Wing, a longtime member of the Board of Overseers of the Boys’ Clubs of Boston. Now known as Crossroads for Kids, the establishment continues to offer programs for at-risk children from all over Massachusetts. In 1998 the camp sold most of its undeveloped land to the Town of Duxbury.

Before that, the properties that make up the camp and the conservation area were owned by the Keene Family. And before that, dating back to the arrival of European settlers in the 1600s, Camp Wing was part of Duxbury’s Common Lands -- to the community for woodcutting, hunting and fishing.

At one point in time, there was a mill in the northern corner of the property. The dam is still there – visible from River Street. The uplands were very likely used as farmland – many of the stone walls have survived. In the last century, there were also cranberry bogs on site, operated by the Consolidated Cape Cod Cranberry Company. These were shut down when Route 3 was constructed in the 1960s. The land was also logged through the end of the 20^th century.

While visible from various vantage points in Marshfield and Humarock, the South River is largely hidden in the town of Duxbury. Yet the river is sourced there, and several miles of its 12-mile course run through the western part of town.

In the Camp Wing Conservation Area, you might catch a glimpse of the river, especially from the observation deck that looks out over the former cranberry bog. You can access it from the East Loop trail. There’s quite a bit to see there – marsh and swamp, rails and bitterns . . . and also Route 3.

The trails are accessible from Franklin Street, where there is a small parking area adjacent to the road. There are two loop trails (West and East), connected by an additional trail. These are all in the wooded upland portion of the property. All of the trails are marked.

by Kezia Bacon, Correspondent

May 2013

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

Duxbury’s Lansing Bennett Forest

The Lansing Bennett Forest is one of many local conservation areas with significant tree damage.  But don't let it stop you from visiting!

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February’s blizzard, and the several springtime windstorms that followed it, wreaked havoc on our local woodlands, as well as our own yards. Even now, months after Nemo, private tree companies are still very busy cleaning up the mess. But due to their significant acreage, our open space areas may face the biggest challenge. Over the past few months, I have received messages from most of our local conservation groups, explaining that the clean-up process in our forests and fields will take time, and urging walkers and hikers to use care.

You’ve probably seen what it takes to remove a single fallen tree from the average yard. Imagine dealing with close to a hundred trees . . . in a remote area with little or no truck access.

This challenge was abundantly evident when I walked last month in the Lansing Bennett Forest in Duxbury. It was my first visit to this 344-acre parcel, a peaceful woodland intersected by Phillips Brook, a tributary to the South River.

The property, originally dubbed Trout Farm, was set aside as conservation land in 1970, when the Town of Duxbury purchased it from the Lot Phillips Company, a Hanover-based outfit that manufactured wooden boxes. The 1.8-mile brook is home to two varieties of trout: brown, and wild brook. It is also the historic location of Howland’s Mill -- founded in 1830 – which was a grist-, and then a sawmill. In later years, there was a trout farm on site.

More recently the name of the property was changed, to honor Dr. Lansing Bennett, who served as chair of the Duxbury Conservation Commission from 1967 to 1979. Dr. Bennett was a tireless advocate for open space, and during his tenure, the Duxbury acquired over 1200 acres.

Access to the Lansing Bennett Forest is on Union Bridge Road, where there is a small parking area parallel to the street. Cross, Summer and Franklin Streets mark the property’s other boundaries. The parcel is also home to a section of the Bay Circuit Trail, 200 miles of walking paths that stretch in a wide semi-circle from Plum Island in Newburyport to Bay Farm on the Duxbury-Kingston line.

While there is a map posted on site, I strongly recommend downloading and printing the area’s property guide, which is available on the Town of Duxbury’s website. The walking paths within the Lansing Bennett Forest follow a loose circle, but there are also many spur trails that provide foot access to and from the perimeter. Bringing a map makes for a much less confusing trip.

The property is mostly upland, a forest comprised primarily of pine and oak.  The trails trace the hills and valleys of kettle holes, a common landscape feature created long ago by receding glaciers. Down by Phillips Brook, you’ll find a maple swamp, with boardwalks traversing the wetter areas. The section of trail that runs directly along the brook is quite lovely.

Being a pine and oak forest, in the section of Duxbury hit hardest by the Blizzard of 2013, the Lansing Bennett Forest has seen better days. Trees are down everywhere. My visit involved scrambling over – and climbing under – numerous fallen trunks and branches. It was actually pretty fun, but if I hadn’t been in the mood for such a rugged experience, I would have had to turn back fairly soon into my walk.

I wasn’t able to connect with Duxbury Conservation to confirm this, but it is very likely that they will attend to the fallen trees soon enough. In the meantime, if you don’t mind a little “adventure,” the Lansing Bennett Forest is definitely worth a visit.

by Kezia Bacon, Correspondent
April 2013 

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

What is Forest Bathing?

Whitney and Thayer Woods in Cohasset is one of the South Shore's many serenity-inducing forests.

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You’ve heard of sunbathing, but what about Forest Bathing? Neither involves water: just like sunbathing is simply relaxing in the sun and soaking up the warm rays, Forest Bathing involves spending time in the woods, not doing anything in particular, just experiencing the forest.

The Japanese call it shinrin-yoku. Their government coined the term in 1982, but the practice is based on ancient Shinto and Buddhist teachings, through which one connects with nature through all five senses. Japan believes enough in this stress-combatting form of preventive medicine that since 2004 it has invested $4 million to research it. Already there are 40 official Forest Therapy trails in Japan, with more on the way.

The researchers at the forefront of this movement are Yoshifumi Miyazaki, a physiological anthropologist at the University of Chiba, and Qing Li, an immunologist at the Nippon School of Medicine. They employ such tools as field tests, hormone analysis, and brain-imaging technology to measure the effects nature on the body, mind and spirit.

For example, Miyazaki had test subject take walks in both forest and urban environments. He monitored the subjects’ levels of the stress hormone cortisol, and found that a stroll in the woods signals a 12.4% drop in cortisol, while an urban amble does not. The forest setting also helped decrease blood pressure and heart rate. The subjects also reported lessened anxiety and improved mood. Meanwhile, Li’s studies documented a considerable improvement in immune function as a result of time spent in a natural setting.

Being in nature has all sorts of other documented benefits. Studies have shown that a natural setting can improve athletic performance, reducing fatigue and anxiety. It can also help to relieve depression, and improve both one’s cognitive abilities as well as one’s capacity for empathy. Most of us know this – at least on some level. There is a reason why we are drawn to beaches, mountains, meadows and forests, not just for the activities associated with these places, but for the way they make us feel. We have an innate understanding of nature’s ability to soothe.

And yes, most of us need soothing. Modern living – in American society, and plenty of others -- involves significant levels of stress. Our fast-paced, instant-gratification-based culture leaves little room for long-lasting serenity or contentment. Craig Chalquist, co-author with Linda Buzzell of Ecotherapy: Healing with Nature in Mind, writes, “Much of modern culture is dedicated to helping us numb ourselves. We become apathetic, paralyzed, to protect ourselves from feeling overwhelmed.”

Spending time in nature can offset that numbness, and help us reconnect with the selves that exist beneath all that stress. Good news: we don’t need an official Forest Therapy Trail to reap the benefits.

We are fortunate, here on the South Shore, to have access to over a hundred open space parcels. Choose one, and get moving down the trail. As soon as you lose sight on the outward signs of civilization – streets, buildings, telephone wires -- you will start to feel it, especially if the place you choose has little or no cell phone reception. There is no need to multitask. The pressure backs off, distractions lessen, it’s easier to breathe – and think -- more deeply.

Just “be.” There is nothing you have to do, to get your dose of Forest Therapy. You can walk; you can sit still; you watch the birds overhead, or lift up a rock and see what lies beneath. Let your mind wander. The key is to be present with nature – to focus on it – rather than, for example, clocking your mileage so you can tick of “exercise” on today’s To Do list.

Speaking of that To Do list, I’m going to make a recommendation. Richard Louv, who wrote Last Child In The Woods, as well as The Nature Principle, will be speaking at the Inly School in Scituate, on Wednesday, April 3 at 7pm. Louv – who introduced the term “nature deficit disorder” to the lexicon -- is another prominent figure in the study of nature’s affects on the psyche. If you want to learn more about the documented health benefits of spending time in nature, this event is a great first step.

Sources: “The Nature Cure” by Florence Williams and “Free Medicine” by Madison Kahn (Outside, December 2012). Also “Whole Earth Mental Health” by Katherine Rowland (Guernica, September 20, 2012)

by Kezia Bacon, Correspondent
March 2013 

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com

Winter Sports Adventures

Readers may recall that last year, at age 40, I decided to try snowboarding for the first time. My son, who is six, enrolled in lessons through the Mountain Munchkin program at the Blue Hills Ski Area in Canton. When I witnessed how naturally he took to it, I thought, “He’ll need someone going to accompany him on the slopes!” My first lesson went well, and I was planning to return for more, but the mountain closed early, due to unseasonably warm weather.

Over the intervening months, I realized that joining my son on the slopes did not require a snowboard. I could just as easily keep him company on downhill skis. I was SO much more drawn to skiing, possibly because I’d tried it – twice – when I was a teenager. So when Blue Hills opened for the season this year, I decided that before I went any farther with the snowboarding, I’d try ski lessons.

I’m so glad I did. I’ve had two lessons now, and I’m planning to go back for more. It’s a better choice for me: I’m a lot happier with my feet moving independently, rather than having them bound together on a piece of fiberglass.

Blue Hills offers a tidy package. For $70 you can get a 1-hour small-group lesson, a lift ticket, and all the rental equipment you need (snowboard or skis/poles, boots, helmet). For a little bit more, you can make it a private class.

So far, I’ve been working with a very kind and patient instructor, who explains the basics of skiing to me, one step at a time. We ride the Magic Carpet up the bunny slope, and as we ski down the hill, I try to demonstrate that I understand what he’s teaching me. It seems to be working. He says that next time I’ll be ready for Patriot Path, the intermediate slope. His goal is to get me out of the wedge-shaped skis that are reserved for beginners, and up to the next level.

Blue Hills offers group and private lessons for all ages. My son is now in the Junior Program, which meets for 90 minutes on Thursday evenings. I’ve been scheduling my own lessons for Thursday or Friday mornings, when the mountain is not very crowded. Blue Hills is much busier in the after-school hours, and on nights and weekends. Visit their website for hours, prices, class info and lots more. http://ski-bluehills.com/

Another recent adventure was my first attempt at indoor rock climbing. I’ve seen climbing walls here and there, but fear always overpowered any intrigue. So I figured that a good first step would be a lesson.

At its various locations -- Hingham, Reading, Framingham, Boston -- REI offers all sorts of classes throughout the year: snowshoeing, road cycling, disaster prep, and so on. But Learn To Climb is only offered in Framingham, the one remaining local REI branch with a climbing structure. I noticed that there was a class on MLK weekend, so I signed up and paid online before I could chicken out.

Five of us took for the class – men and women ranging in ages from late 20s to early 40s. In the first hour, we got our harnesses fitted, learned knots and rope handling techniques, and then squeezed our feet into the narrow-toed climbing shoes REI provided for the course. Then we divided into pairs and took turns alternately climbing The Pinnacle (the climbing structure) and belaying (keeping our partner safe by taking up the slack on the climbing rope).

I had tried rock climbing in college, once, for about five minutes. The class was outdoors, on “real” rock. I had a panic attack about eight feet up, came straight down, and spent the rest of the class “just watching.” So I wanted to try again.

I did better this time. Rock climbing requires some strength – you use your arms and legs to ascend what is basically a vertical path. But it’s also very much a mental game. It’s easy to give up, so you need to challenge yourself to keep going, even if it’s scary. You also have to trust your partner to keep the rope tight, so that if you slip, you’ll be dangling in the air rather than plummeting to the ground. I’m not sure whether it was my fingers or my nerve that gave out first, but I managed to make it about two-thirds of the way to the top of the easiest climb. I’m planning to go back to try again. The cost of the class was $45 – well worth it for the experience. (http://www.rei.com/outdoorschool.html)

by Kezia Bacon, Correspondent

January 2013 

Kezia Bacon's articles appear courtesy of the North and South Rivers Watershed Association, a local non-profit organization devoted to the preservation, restoration, maintenance and conservation of the North and South Rivers and their watershed. For membership information and a copy of their latest newsletter, contact NSRWA at (781) 659-8168 or visit www.nsrwa.org. To browse 15 years of Nature (Human and Otherwise) columns, visit http://keziabaconbernstein.blogspot.com