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Early December Circuit of Jones Branch Trail at Shoal Creek Nature Preserve

February 26, 2025/in Updates /by Steve Jones

Fellow retired forester Chris Stuhlinger and I hiked the Jones Branch Trail on December 9, 2024, at the Shoal Creek Nature Preserve near Florence, Alabama. The preserve’s website:

The Shoal Creek Nature Preserve (dedicated by Forever Wild resolution as the Billingsley-McClure Shoal Creek Preserve) allows visitors to explore 298 acres of fallow fields, mature upland hardwood stands, and scenic creek bottoms in Lauderdale County. Waterways on the tract include Indian Camp Creek, Lawson Creek, Jones Branch and Shoal Creek. The tract was purchased in part through a Land and Water Conservation Fund grant awarded by the Alabama Department of Economics and Community Affairs, as well as through financial and in-kind contributions from the City of Florence and Lauderdale County.

The preserve encompasses less than one-half square mile, yet we sauntered roughly three miles through what seemed like a far more extensive property, experiencing diverse terrain, varied cover, several small streams, and one stretch overlooking the Shoal Creek arm of Lake Wilson (Tennessee River). I attempt with this Great Blue Heron photo essay to introduce you to the preserve, sharing its story as I read it in the forest, the land, and human artifacts. Come along on this interpretive journey.

I first visited the preserve in August 2023, just eight weeks after my triple bypass. I ventured just a few hundred feet into the property, my photo essay reporting only on the abandoned fields: https://stevejonesgbh.com/2023/11/01/mid-august-2023-first-time-visit-to-forever-wild-shoal-creek-nature-preserve/

I focus this current essay on the forest cover, predominately second growth hardwood naturally regenerated on abandoned pasture or rough tilled cropland. The forest tells the history, even as it hints at the future. Both of these images contain beech saplings, clinging to marcescent leaves, this past summer’s foliage that will hold until spring. Understory beech tolerates shade and can persist there for decades until the overstory gives way to disturbance (e.g., ice, wind, disease, or old age), bringing sunlight to the beech, which will respond to emerge as a major overstory component in the next stand.

The trigger for release (whether beech or some other species in the understory or intermediate canopy) may come as a widespread blowdown or the loss of a single tree, like this 30-inch diameter red oak, whose massive crown covered more than a tenth of an acre. The crown opening will trigger a race to fill the void. The competitors? I have observed that the adjoining upper canopy occupants will close the gap faster than any understory or intermediate canopy trees can rush upward to fill the void. Stand replacement will require more than single tree disturbance. Trust me, the beech is in no hurry.

The hollow red oak appeared healthy and strong, but it no longer had the structural strength to withstand the undefeated forces of physics and gravity. The second-growth forest stands of northern Alabama bear the torment of widespread decay infested by old wounds from prior logging or farmstead activities.

I recorded this 45-second video at the crash site!

Nothing in Nature is static. Within two years the tree top will collapse from decay, beginning with twigs and small branches, and by year ten, only a deeply decayed trunk will remain.

We found a species of oak not familiar to either of us: blackjack oak (Quercus marilandica), a shrub to medium-sized tree found in central and eastern USA in fields, woodland edges, and dry ridges. It prefers better drained soils and is often found where other trees will not grow due to poor soils. We vowed to pay closer attention on our next visit to learn more about the species, its abundance and distribution on the preserve, and its site preferences..

Eastern red cedar is an early successional species, colonizing abandoned agricultural land, old fields, and cutover forests. They are relatively short-lived, unable to compete effectively long-term with the hardwood neighbors. We found ubiquitous dead and dying cedar as it drops out of these 60-90 year old second growth hardwood stands. The one below is dead and is among the larger individuals we encountered.

The cedar confirm my supposition that human disturbance and past use drove the direction of forest succession. Cedar wood is decay-resistent. This standing deceased individual may offer critter cover and nesting sites for decades.

As I’ve often observed, death is a big part of life in the forest. This old stump snag caught my attention. Like the toppled red oak, this snag is hollow. The ground beyond is littered with dead and downed woody debris. The carbon cycle is active.

Occasionally in my GBH photo essays I ruminate on tree spiral grain. Not all trees have it. This bark-free dead hardwood (species?) spirals clockwise at about 30 degrees. The spiral and staining create an atractive pattern. I have yet to find definitive answers to the spiral mysteries in the literature. A recent online article (The Gymnosperm Database, 2024), Why Do Trees Form Spiral Grain? edited by Christopher J. Earle adds to my own uncertainty:

Spiral grain is the helical form taken by xylem tissues in their growth along a tree trunk or limb. Spiral grain is often conspicuous in snags that have lost their bark, as shown in the photos on this page, and people love to speculate about it… Personally, I am skeptical… Finally, there doesn’t seem to be much known about how all this happens: what physiological stresses trigger which growth hormones, for instance, or what causes a reversal in the direction of the spiral. On balance, I still have a sense that the field is data-poor, and it’s possible to generate lots of plausible hypotheses.

Unless someone directs me to refereed evidence to the contrary, I will stay with my conclusion that spiral-grained wood is stronger, therefore offering a competitive advantage evolutionarily.

Regardless, spiraled clockwise or counter or straight grained, all trees will succumb, decay, and return to the forest soil. These colorful turkey tail mushrooms are the reproductive, spore-producing orgams of a decomposing fungus whose mycelia are feeding within the log.

Another fungus, this one a pathogen growing on live wood, black knot disease, infects black cherry, a native tree species across the eastern US. The tree seems to tolerate this particularly large knot.

If we had not read in the forest obvious indications of past disturbance and human influences, this long-abandoned ~1960 Ford station wagon would have told the tale. Left decades ago at the edge of a spent agricultural field or pasture, the carcass (pardon the pun) now is located in the forest interior.

We crossed many old farm paths and road beds. I imagine the preserve’s character 70-80 years ago, a failing farm with a few acres still tilled, large marginally productive pasture acreage, visible soil erosion, and extensive abandoned fields naturally regenerating to herbs, shrubs, and early successional tree species.

Water Features

Several streams pass peacefully through the reserve. Fittingly, I’m standing at the sign for Jones Branch Trail. Behind me a massive white oak fell across the trail this past summer.

I recorded this 54-second video at this pleasant location:

We walked along other stretches that rewarded us with gurgling water and a soothing setting.

I recorded this 57-second video of another stream section:

We enjoyed the views of the Shoal Creek arm of Wilson Lake (Tennessee River impounded by Wilson Dam) from the bluff 150-feet above lake level. The view is restricted to dormant season.

My predilection favors woodland exploration during the November through early April period when understory and main canopy foliage is absent, heat and humidity are memories, and nuiscance insects are inactive. I admit, however, that when spring wildflowers are abundant, I will gleefully embrace that season of renewal. And I will enthusiastically relish summer mornings and welcome the coming autumn. I simply love immersion in Nature’s wildness. Life is too short not to flourish in her beauty, magic, wonder, awe, and inspiration, whatever the season.

Thoughts and Reflections

I offer these observations:

Every forest (or Nature Preserve) tells its tale to those able to read its language. (Steve Jones)
In every true searcher of Nature there is a kind of religious reverence. (Albert Einstein)
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious. (Einstein)
Death is a big part of life in the forest (Steve Jones)

Inhale and absorb Nature’s elixir. May Nature Inspire, Inform, and Reward you!

Note: Unless otherwise noted, all blog post images are created & photographeerved.”

And Third: I am availabd by Stephen B. Jones. Please circulate images with photo credit: “©2025 Steve Jones, Great Blue Heron LLC. All Rights Resle for Nature-Inspired Speaking, Writing, and Consulting — contact me at steve.jones.0524@gmail.com

A reminder of my Personal and Professional Purpose, Passion, and Cause

If only more of us viewed our precious environment through the filters I employ. If only my mission and vision could be multiplied by untold orders of magnitude:

Mission: Employ writing and speaking to educate, inspire, and enable readers and listeners to understand, appreciate, and enjoy Nature… and accept and practice Earth Stewardship.

Vision:

People of all ages will pay greater attention to and engage more regularly with Nature… and will accept and practice informed and responsible Earth Stewardship.
They will see their relationship to our natural world with new eyes… and understand their Earth home more clearly.

Tagline/Motto: Steve (Great Blue Heron) encourages and seeks a better tomorrow through Nature-Inspired Living!

Steve’s Four Books

I wrote my books Nature Based Leadership (2016), Nature-Inspired Learning and Leading (2017), Weaned Seals and Snowy Summits: Stories of Passion for Place and Everyday Nature (2019; co-authored with Dr. Jennifer Wilhoit), and Dutton Land & Cattle: A Land Legacy Story (2024) to encourage all citizens to recognize and appreciate that every lesson for living, learning, serving, and leading is either written indelibly in or is powerfully inspired by Nature. All four of my books present compilations of personal experiences expressing my deep passion for Nature. All four books offer observations and reflections on my relationship with the natural world… and the broader implications for society. Order any from your local indie bookstore, or find them on IndieBound or other online sources such as Amazon and LifeRich.

I began writing books and Posts for several reasons:

I love hiking and exploring Nature
I see images I want to (and do) capture with my trusty iPhone camera
I enjoy explaining those images — an educator at heart
I don’t play golf!
I do love writing — it’s the hobby I never needed when my career consumed me
Judy suggested my writing is in large measure my legacy to our two kids, our five grandkids, and all the unborn generations beyond
And finally, perhaps my books and Blogs could reach beyond family and touch a few other lives… sow some seeds for the future

Mild Fall Afternoon at the Woodland Flint Creek Trail on Wheeler National Wildlife Refuge!

January 21, 2025/in Updates /by Steve Jones

Fellow retired forester Chris Stuhlinger and I co-led a group of 22 OLLI (Osher Lifelong Learning Institute, University of Alabama in Huntsville) members on a Nature Walk along Flint Creek Trail (Wheeler National Wildlife Refuge) on Sunday afternoon, November 10, 2024. Two days earlier the Sunday forecast predicted an 80 percent probability of rain. Nary a drop dampened us on a grand afternoon.

A Nature walk differs from what we term a hike. I insist that our walks be saunters, where we wander in the habitat, carefully discovering and examining what mysteries and wonders lie hidden in plain sight. Our hikes hurry through the ecosystem at a pace that limits revealing the wonder beyond a superficial glance. Like John Muir, who disdained hiking, I quickly lose contact with the hardcore hikers. I stop to probe, take photos, and record a brief video, or two. A fellow inquisitive hiker may lag with me to find what we may. I am a saunterer, dedicated to the end. I find it amusing that when my time stretched endlessly ahead in my youth, I rushed to destination after destination. Today when time rushes ahead, I’m in no hurry. I don’t want to miss anything.

Flint Creek Bay

Flint Creek flows from the south into Wheeler Lake, a TVA impoundment…the dam 40 miles downstream on the Tenessee River. Entering the extended dormant season, The Corps of Engineers has already lowered the water level to allow greater flood control storage capacity for seasonal winter and spring rains. Mud flats are present where summer water stood.

A great blue heron hunts the shallow water bordering the mud flats.

I recorded this 24-second video as the heron took flight:

A pond cypress at the mudflat edge shows the summer water level stains. Knees also evidence the summer level.

I recorded this 58-second video encompassing the bay, the mud flat, and the cypress.

The riparian forest envelops Flint Creek Trail as our group exited the boardwalk. I’ve always enjoyed both the openess of boardwalks and closed forest trails — the best of both worlds at the Flint Creek Trail!

I recorded this 57-second video as we crossed the boardwalk to the wooded Flint Creek Trail:

Something about the boardwalk held us in place, urging us to enjoy the ironic attraction that holds people transfixed by an extensive mudflat, bird and woodland mammal tracks, and even human footprints.

Flint Creek Trail’s Riparian Forest

Allow your mind to reject the false impression that forests are forever. Picture this moist fertile field in corn and soybeans during the early 1930s, soon to be abandoned, seeding to windblown and bird-scattered germinants of annuals, perennials, shrubs, and trees. A near jungle of vegetation yielded to forest, the most aggressive and faster growing trees prevailing. The winners in this stand are 100 feet tall.

Our group looks skyward. Chris redirects their attention to an understory paw paw tree below right.

The yellow poplar commands the dominant canopy and strikes an impressive pose below left. A Southern-region emblematic flowering magnolia seems content growing in full shade.

Special Woodland Treats

I’m a big fan of what I call tree form curiosities. We found a yellow poplar that had fallen horizontally decades ago, yet had retained vascular connection to its roots. Remaining viable, the prostrate stem produced several vertical shoots that developed as individual trees rising from the still-growing horizontal base. Enjoy these images of nine OLLI bumps on a log!

A special moment at a place of magic and wonder! Had we been hiking, strung out as the faster among us surged ahead, we might not have noticed and lingered at the natural living bench. By universal acclaim and smiling faces, this was a worthy and enjoyable stop.

Trees are not alone in partaking of full sunshine in the upper crown. Supple jack vines hitched a ride vertically as the trees began ascending 90 years ago from the fallow fields. Our major southern forest vines are the same age as the trees, and grow upward with the trees. Wrap and hold on tightly. Let the trees do the heavy lifting.

Sasafras roots are worthy of an inquisitive inhale — oh, the fragrance of root beer!

Again, a Nature Walk provides unlimited opportunities for learning and appreciating natural wonders.

Glimpses of the Fungi Kingdom

I’ve repeated in these Great Blue Heron photo essays that death and decomposition are a major element of life in our forests. We spotted several individuals of Coker’s Amanita, its bright white caps announcing its presence.

Steve Stewart snapped a nice shot of this pair and their beautifully gilled underside.

We discovered three edible species of wild mushrooms: honey mushroom, the beige individual at left; oyster mushroom held in the same hand; amber jelly mushroom at right.

Don’t take my word regarding edibility. Always do your own homework. I consume only species about which my knowledge is 100 percent certain, and then only when cooked.

We exited the trail via a return trek across the boardwalk. The clouds had broken, removing all hope that drought relief would bless our Sunday evening. We lingered, enjoying the evening and each other’s companny. Had our walk been a hike, I would have emerged from the forest after most had departed for home. John Muir abhored the word “hike”:

I don’t like either the word [hike] or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains – not ‘hike’!

Muir, as he so often did, nailed the sentiment we all shared:

I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.

This 50-second video captures our group recrossing the boardwalk to the parking lot as the sky cleared, erasing any hope that the promised drought-abating rain would bless our Sunday evening:

Thoughts and Reflections

I offer these observations:

When my time stretched endlessly ahead in my youth, I rushed to destination after destination. Today when time rushes ahead, I’m in no hurry, content to saunter.
I love the trees reaching heavenward and the fungi intent on decomposing them.
So much in Nature lies hidden in plain sight, awaiting discovery by curious minds and searching eyes.

Inhale and absorb Nature’s elixir. May Nature Inspire, Inform, and Reward you!

Note: All blog post images created & photographed by Stephen B. Jones unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: “©2025 Steve Jones, Great Blue Heron LLC. All Rights Reserved.”

Another Note: If you came to this post via a Facebook posting or by an another route, please sign up now (no cost… no obligation) to receive my Blog Post email alerts: http://eepurl.com/cKLJdL

And a Third: I am available for Nature-Inspired Speaking, Writing, and Consulting — contact me at steve.jones.0524@gmail.com

Reminder of my Personal and Professional Purpose, Passion, and Cause

If only more of us viewed our precious environment through the filters I employ. If only my mission and vision could be multiplied untold orders of magnitude:

Mission: Employ writing and speaking to educate, inspire, and enable readers and listeners to understand, appreciate, and enjoy Nature… and accept and practice Earth Stewardship.

Vision:

People of all ages will pay greater attention to and engage more regularly with Nature… and will accept and practice informed and responsible Earth Stewardship.
They will see their relationship to our natural world with new eyes… and will understand more clearly their Earth home.

Tagline/Motto: Steve (Great Blue Heron) encourages and seeks a better tomorrow through Nature-Inspired Living!

Steve’s Four Books

I wrote my books Nature Based Leadership (2016), Nature-Inspired Learning and Leading (2017), Weaned Seals and Snowy Summits: Stories of Passion for Place and Everyday Nature (2019; co-authored with Dr. Jennifer Wilhoit), and Dutton Land & Cattle: A Land Legacy Story (2023) to encourage all citizens to recognize and appreciate that every lesson for living, learning, serving, and leading is either written indelibly in or is powerfully inspired by Nature. All four of my books present compilations of personal experiences expressing my deep passion for Nature. All four books offer observations and reflections on my relationship with the natural world… and the broader implications for society. Order any from your local indie bookstore, or find them on IndieBound or other online sources such as Amazon and LifeRich.

I began writing books and Posts for several reasons:

I love hiking and exploring Nature
I see images I want to (and do) capture with my trusty iPhone camera
I enjoy explaining those images — an educator at heart
I don’t play golf!
I do love writing — it’s the hobby I never needed when my career consumed me
Judy suggested my writing is in large measure my legacy to our two kids, our five grandkids, and all the unborn generations beyond
And finally, perhaps my books and Blogs could reach beyond family and touch a few other lives… sow some seeds for the future

[Me with my hand on a sapling in group photo — courtesy of Chris Stuhlinger]

Autumn Stroll at Huntsville Alabama’s Goldsmith-Schiffman Wildlife Sanctuary!

January 2, 2025/in Updates /by Steve Jones

On November 1, 2024, 72 days since my total right knee replacement surgery, I sauntered within Huntsville’s Goldsmith-Schiffman Wildlife Sanctuary with dear friends Marian Moore Lewis, Chris Stuhlinger, Bill and Becky Heslip, and Judy (my bride of 52 years)! I felt the lift of a new month, the freshness of an early fall day, and the joy of knowing that both knees (left replacement in January 2024) are far better than in late 2023. My recovery epitomizes the power of Nature-Buoyed Aging and Healing!

Where do I begin with my 26th Great Blue Heron photo essay dedicated to the Goldsmith-Schiffman Wildlife Sanctuary? I skimmed the list of the first 25 topics and foci. I found no reason for concern about repeating prior themes, photos, observations, and reflections. Nothing in Nature is static. Every parcel of the 400-acre sanctuary is unique. Change is constant across the hours of a day, the days of a week, the weeks of a month, the months, the seasons, the years…the decades…the centuries. Were I to live the years of Methuselah, I might publish a thousand GSWS photo essays without repetition.

Let’s start at the westside entrance on Taylor Road. The observation shelter 100 feet from the parking lot looks over Hidden Spring, where mountain water lifts from the ground, fills Hidden Spring Creek, flows into Jobala Pond, and then empties into the Flint River bordering the sanctuary.

Here’s my 60-second video from above Hidden Spring:

The rain-moistened, lichen-coated water oak trunk stands near the shelter. Even an overnight autumn rain transforms a single tree trunk, highlighting its lichen tint, which will once again dry during the day. The light will shift from dull morning stratus to peaks of bright sunshine. I could have stationed myself at the prior evening’s gloaming near this lone oak. I recorded 0.77″ of rain overnight. The stem at dusk was dry and remained unaffected by the rain until stemflow whetted it before dawn. Occasional photographs would have chronicled the process. Daylight came in form of easing rain, lots of canopy dripping, and wispy fog under thick stratus. Nothing in Nature is static; every moment has a story to tell. The world is like that, whether a natural tale or a human narrative.

The deck faces north into the wetland forest canopy 40 feet above the spring surface. Dripping, limited birdsong, lingering overcast and disruptive road noise gave little identity to the time of day (1:00 PM). Had I been beamed into the moment, all signals would have directed me mid-morning.

As we entered the Sanctuary, the persistent stratus lifted, the day brightened, and we accepted the reality that the day had moved beyond noon. Observations and reflections, both literal and philosophical, stimulate musings. Seventy-five years ago, Jobala Pond was a raw borrow pit where road engineers had mined gravel, sand, and clay for nearby road constructiion. Archival photos show a barren shoreline, a scar upon the land. Nature’s healing powers are nearly without limit. During my lifetime, Mount Saint Helens “destroyed” hundreds of square miles of blasted forest; today the acreage is green with vibrant young forest. Savage 2016 wildefires blackened 70,285 acres in Yellowsone National Park. When I toured the park just five years later, burned forests stood as blackened skeletons underlain by green carpets of new growth. John Muir aptly observed:

Earth has no sorrow that earth cannot heal.

Nature knows disturbance, for disturbance is the way of life and the architect of adaptation and evolution. And so it is with Jobala Pond, now a naturalized stream/pond ecosystem.

Here is the brief video I recorded along Hidden Spring Creek as it entered Jobala Pond.

Beavers are primary influencers of stream flow, function, and structure. Their 18-inch-high dam diagonally crosses the stream at left. A bark-stripped beaver-chew stem segment floats streamside at right.

A red swamp crayfish strenguously demanded some kind of passage toll, posing defensively as we approached. The crawdad, like the beaver, has no idea his habitat was once a destroyed landscape, transformed from an ugly worthless borrow pit to a vibrantly functioning natural ecosystem.

In the prime of my outdoor adventure life (say the 1980s), I would have scoffed at the notion of six (four in the photo and two others of us) ancient grandparents wandering and wondering in emerging wildness, once ignominously carved from pre-Columbian wilderness. Our shared vision is the guarantee of re-emergent wilderness in decades hence. My hope is that these photo essays will serve one small step toward ensuring that eventuality. Ninety years ago Louis Bromfield said of his efforts to restore his beloved Ohio Malabar Farm:

The adventure at Malabar is by no means finished… The land came to us out of eternity and when the youngest of us associated with it dies, it will still be here. The best we can hope to do is to leave the mark of our fleeting existence upon it, to die knowing that we have changed a small corner of this earth for the better by wisdom, knowledge and hard work.

As we reached the point where the creek broadens to Jobala Pond, the thick stratus began to break.

The serpentine water oak branch extending over the pond reflects perfectly on the still water.

The old iron gate adds a touch of nostalgia, harkening back to decades of agricultural production combatting seasonally saturated soils, periodic Flint River flooding, and marauding deer, raccoons, and other crop-consuming critters.

Roundleaf greenbrier produced a bumper crop of deep blue berries.

Similar in habit and appearance to greenbrier, Carolina snailseed (also known as Carolina moonseed and corbead) is a deciduous, woody vine that climbs with thin twining stems or scrambles along the ground, and primarily occurs in rocky open woods, wood margins, glades, fence rows, roadsides and stream/pond margin. Attractive features are its foliage and its autumn red berries!

Before departing the sanctuary, we drove to the east entrance.

To The Sanctuary’s East Side as Sunset Nears

The riparian forest comprises diverse species, straight boles, and stems reaching 100 feet. The Flint River floods much of the forest at least several times annually. Once farmed 70-80 years ago, the mixed forest regenerated naturally.

A stemflow-wetted beach trunk presented a parting lichen-painted visual gift.

Wildness is returning to the several hundred acre sanctuary. Preserved in perpetuity, wildness will transition in decades to an old growth forest condition. I won’t see that long-term result, yet I can take satisfaction knowing the process is underway.

Thoughts and Reflections

I offer these observations:

The best we can hope to do is to leave the mark of our fleeting existence upon it, to die knowing that we have changed a small corner of this earth for the better by wisdom, knowledge and hard work. (Louis Bromfield)
Nothing in Nature is static; every moment has a story to tell. The world is like that, whether a natural tale or a human narrative.
Nature knows disturbance, for disturbance is the way of life and the architect of adaptation and evolution.

Inhale and absorb Nature’s elixir. May Nature Inspire, Inform, and Reward you!

Another Note: If you came to this post via a Facebook posting or by an another route, please sign up now (no cost… no obligation) to receive my Blog Post email alerts: http://eepurl.com/cKLJdL

And a Third: I am available for Nature-Inspired Speaking, Writing, and Consulting — contact me at steve.jones.0524@gmail.com

Reminder of my Personal and Professional Purpose, Passion, and Cause

If only more of us viewed our precious environment through the filters I employ. If only my mission and vision could be multiplied untold orders of magnitude:

Mission: Employ writing and speaking to educate, inspire, and enable readers and listeners to understand, appreciate, and enjoy Nature… and accept and practice Earth Stewardship.

Vision:

People of all ages will pay greater attention to and engage more regularly with Nature… and will accept and practice informed and responsible Earth Stewardship.
They will see their relationship to our natural world with new eyes… and will understand more clearly their Earth home.

Tagline/Motto: Steve (Great Blue Heron) encourages and seeks a better tomorrow through Nature-Inspired Living!

Steve’s Four Books

I wrote my books Nature Based Leadership (2016), Nature-Inspired Learning and Leading (2017), Weaned Seals and Snowy Summits: Stories of Passion for Place and Everyday Nature (2019; co-authored with Dr. Jennifer Wilhoit), and Dutton Land & Cattle: A Land Legacy Story (2023) to encourage all citizens to recognize and appreciate that every lesson for living, learning, serving, and leading is either written indelibly in or is powerfully inspired by Nature. All four of my books present compilations of personal experiences expressing my deep passion for Nature. All four books offer observations and reflections on my relationship with the natural world… and the broader implications for society. Order any from your local indie bookstore, or find them on IndieBound or other online sources such as Amazon and LifeRich.

I began writing books and Posts for several reasons:

I love hiking and exploring Nature
I see images I want to (and do) capture with my trusty iPhone camera
I enjoy explaining those images — an educator at heart
I don’t play golf!
I do love writing — it’s the hobby I never needed when my career consumed me
Judy suggested my writing is in large measure my legacy to our two kids, our five grandkids, and all the unborn generations beyond
And finally, perhaps my books and Blogs could reach beyond family and touch a few other lives… sow some seeds for the future

An Early Fall Exploration along Madison, Alabama’s Bradford Creek Greenway!

November 6, 2024/in Updates /by Steve Jones

On October 4, 2024, five and one-half weeks beyond my total right knee replacement surgery, I continued my recovery and reentry to Nature exploration. Judy and our two Alabama grandsons (Sam, 10, and Jack, just shy of 17) accompanied me. My appreciation for the simple pleasures of the Common in Nature grew during my forced Nature Deficit Disorder period! I was eager to absorb a dose of Nature’s elixir along the nearby Bradford Creek Greenway, a flat paved surface appropriate for this stage of my recovery.

Innumerable times, I’ve introduced adults and kids to the compound, fierce-looking thorns of our native honey locust trees. I seldom include Latin names in these photo essays, yet some scientific monikers, like Gledistia triacanthos, are irresistible! Somehow the sweet, sugary resonance of honey locust belies its fanged thorns waiting to prick and puncture the unwary woods-rambler.

Familiarity breeds contempt, an apt adage. Take a closer look, then back away from the forked spikes. Were I inclined to sate my curiosity, I would dive into an internet rabbit hole to determine the one or many evolutionary impetuses for evolving the loathsome appedages. Perhaps on a day when the fall weather is not so perfect as today’s.

I recorded this video at our prickly friend.

This tupelo tree with its gnarly roots is one I visit frequently. Never have I seen it with such little water. I measured just 0.70″ of rain in August; a little over 3.00″ in September; and just 0.72″ in October. Bradford Creek is demonstrating the serious rainfall deficit.

A few deeper channels hold water sufficient to retain all manner of stream life.

Two and one-half miles south of the Heritage School trailhead, some flow, albeit painfully slow, persists.

My brief video from the south-end bridge speaks softly of our persistent drought:

Nothing in Nature is static. Since my prior visit, an easterly wind pushed a trailside 18-inch diameter shagbark hickory past its critical strength threshold. Toppled, the tree reveals its rotted and weakened east-facing trunk. In so many ways, Nature offers rudimentary lessons in applied physics.

There is no result in nature without a cause; understand the cause and you will have no need of the experiment. (Leonardo da Vinci)

The species’ bark is uniquely distinctive, whether standing vertical or recently resting supine.

Here is my 53-second fallen shagbark hickory video:

The standing tree evidenced the basal rot. Now fallen, the rotten-to-the-core stump leads me to wonder how it stood at all. The tree was not able to withstand the wind. Trees so close to the disturbances of installing the sewer line and constructing and maintaining the greenway sustain injuries that open infection courts for pathogens and decay fungi. Their days are numbered.

No one in our region could complain about an absence of October sunshine.

I recorded the call of a mockingbird celebrating the fine day in the canopy of a cedar tree between the greenway and Bradford Creek.

I’m sure you’ve heard people complaing about hayfever instigated by goldenrod pollen. They are mistaken. Goldenrod pollen is heavy and sticky, the plant relying on insects for pollination. Ragweed is the principal late summer and early fall hayfever culprit.

This ailanthus webworm moth is one of goldenrod’s many pollinators.

Blue mistflower also provided color along the greenway.

Cardinal flower also brightened my return to Nature.

Straw-colored flatsedge carries an apt moniker.

Walking or biking along Bradford Creek occasionally rewards me with a snake sighting, most often a gray ratsnake. Unfortunately, a passerby decided to crush the head of this small copperhead, and leave it on the pavement. In every matter concerning informed and responsible Earth Stewardship, ignorance can be an overwhelming obstacle.

Until my final breath, I will hold fast to my retirment mission:

Employ writing and speaking to educate, inspire, and enable readers and listeners to understand, appreciate, and enjoy Nature… and accept and practice Earth Stewardship.

Thoughts and Reflections

I offer these observations:

A short return to Nature five weeks following surgery pays dividends, amplifying and accelerating physical and mental healing!
There is no result in nature without a cause; understand the cause and you will have no need of the experiment. (Leonardo da Vinci)
The older I get, the more I don’t know.

Inhale and absorb Nature’s elixir. May Nature Inspire, Inform, and Reward you!

Note: Unless otherwise noted, all blog post images are created & photographed by Stephen B. Jones. Please circulate images with photo credit: “©2024 Steve Jones, Great Blue Heron LLC. All Rights Reserved.”

And Third: I am available for Nature-Inspired Speaking, Writing, and Consulting — contact me at steve.jones.0524@gmail.com

A reminder of my Personal and Professional Purpose, Passion, and Cause

If only more of us viewed our precious environment through the filters I employ. If only my mission and vision could be multiplied by untold orders of magnitude:

Mission: Employ writing and speaking to educate, inspire, and enable readers and listeners to understand, appreciate, and enjoy Nature… and accept and practice Earth Stewardship.

Vision:

People of all ages will pay greater attention to and engage more regularly with Nature… and will accept and practice informed and responsible Earth Stewardship.
They will see their relationship to our natural world with new eyes… and understand their Earth home more clearly.

Tagline/Motto: Steve (Great Blue Heron) encourages and seeks a better tomorrow through Nature-Inspired Living!

Steve’s Four Books

I wrote my books Nature Based Leadership (2016), Nature-Inspired Learning and Leading (2017), Weaned Seals and Snowy Summits: Stories of Passion for Place and Everyday Nature (2019; co-authored with Dr. Jennifer Wilhoit), and Dutton Land & Cattle: A Land Legacy Story (2023) to encourage all citizens to recognize and appreciate that every lesson for living, learning, serving, and leading is either written indelibly in or is powerfully inspired by Nature. All four of my books present compilations of personal experiences expressing my deep passion for Nature. All four books offer observations and reflections on my relationship with the natural world… and the broader implications for society. Order any from your local indie bookstore, or find them on IndieBound or other online sources such as Amazon and LifeRich.

I began writing books and Posts for several reasons:

I love hiking and exploring Nature
I see images I want to (and do) capture with my trusty iPhone camera
I enjoy explaining those images — an educator at heart
I don’t play golf!
I do love writing — it’s the hobby I never needed when my career consumed me
Judy suggested my writing is in large measure my legacy to our two kids, our five grandkids, and all the unborn generations beyond
And finally, perhaps my books and Blogs could reach beyond family and touch a few other lives… sow some seeds for the future

An August Afternoon Stroll along Indian Creek Greenway!

October 16, 2024/in Updates /by Steve Jones

On Friday, August 9, 2024, I stopped by Huntsville, Alabama’s Indian Creek Greenway to trek a couple of miles to capture images of mid-summer flowers, trees, seasonal breezes, and the mood of Indian Creek in the late afternoon shade. I wanted to inhale Nature’s summer essence before my total right knee replacement on August 20. I had my left knee replaced on January 23, 2024. I know what to expect. I will be out of my woodland sauntering mode until mid-October when I hope to be on track for the kind of mobility I’ve missed for years! [Note: I’m putting the final touches on this photo essay just a couple of hours after hiking (slowly and cautiously) the one-half-mile Rainbolt Trail on the Rainbow Mountain Nature Preserve in Madison, Alabama on October 13, 2024!]

I entered the greenway at 2:30 PM and enjoyed a drier airmass and lower temperatures. There was no need to deal with the more typical hot, hazy, and humid days of mid-August!

Like so many of our greenways, this one occupies a sewer line right-of-way running through an active flood plain, the overflow triggered several times a year by drenching thunderstorms and prolonged winter and spring rains. The stream ran at a routine summertime flow as I walked along the trail and occasionally penetrated to creekside. I’ll report on my creek-proximate wanderings in a complementary photo essay.

I recorded this 59-second video a few hundred yards from the southern end of the greenway. I began the video with a magnificent green ash tree rising from the forest edge. I remind readers that these urban flood plains are naturally fertile with deep soils routinely refreshed with sediment- and nutrient-laden flood waters. The ash and other riparian forest neighbors express site quality with their height, this ash reaching at least 100 feet above the forest floor.

Here is a still photograph of the subject green ash tree. Well, I must admit that this a screen shot from the video. At the top edge of the photo, leaning in from the opposite greenway edge, a black walnut crown is attempting to close the aerial tunnel over the pedestrian and biking path.

When an old forester (BS in Forestry, 1973) seeks a woodland saunter as he returns home from an OLLI UAH Board meeting, can anyone deny him the joy of focusing a video or two on special trees! I found the mostly sunny skies mesmerizing above the greenway and its trailside forests. This time, I centered the 57-second video around a large shagbark hickory.

There are things I cannot resist, of which one is the complex bark of shagbark hickory, which like the song of a Carolina chickadee says its name.

I am a relentless fan of the writings of Aldo Leopold, America’s consummate conservationist and father of North American wildlife biology. He observed:

Our ability to perceive quality in nature begins, as in art, with the pretty. It expands through successive stages of the beautiful to values as yet uncaptured by language.

Shagbark hickory is a work of art, a consequence of timeless evolution. It’s the only tree of our southern hardwood forests with overlapping plated bark. To what advantage evolutionarily, I ponder? I’ve heard that various woodland bats find shelter under the plates. Do the bats deter foliar-consuming insects, or gobble stem-boring weevils or nut pests? I don’t know the answer, nor did a quick internet query yield an explanation. Leonardo da Vinci may be one of the top five scientific minds of the past 1,000 years. I base my observation that the tree’s bark owes its peculiar nature to evolution on a simple da Vinci quote:

There is no result in nature without a cause; understand the cause and you will have no need of the experiment.

Those in local, state, regional, and national circles of Nature enthusiasts often lament of a species that it is an alien, an invasive, a pest, and other derogatory monikers. Chinese yam is one such interloper growing in profusion at this section of the greenway edge.

An NC State Cooperative Extension online source stated:

Chinese Yam was introduced here as early as the 19th century for culinary and cultural uses and is now considered an invasive plant species in several states. It has spread from Louisiana to Vermont and can form dense masses of vines that cover and kill native vegetation, including trees, within a variety of moist, disturbed habitats. It spreads by seed, tubers and by the small tubers in leaf axils.

I marveled at the small branch tubers, recalling that they are edible. While I do abhor widespread, truly invasive ecosystem-threatening alien plants like Chinese privet and kudzu, I do not get exorcised by Chinese yam. Instead I shall view it as Earth-native and not particularly worthy of calling out the National Guard.

I recorded this 57-second Chinese yam video:

Here is a screenshot of two leaf axil tubers.

Giant ragweed is an impressive plant native. The cluster below has already reached eight feet. An online source spoke of it in ways seeming unkind:

This is an annual herb usually growing up to 2 m (6 ft 7 in) tall, but known to reach over 6 m (20 ft) in rich, moist soils. The tough stems have woody bases and are branching or unbranched. Most leaves are oppositely arranged. The blades are variable in shape, sometimes palmate with five lobes, and often with toothed edges. The largest can be over 25 cm (9.8 in) long by 20 cm (7.9 in) wide. They are borne on petioles several centimeters long. They are glandular and rough in texture.

Ragweed pollen is a common offensive allergen. The plant is a serious agricultural nuisance and a tough weed to control. That it is a native doesn’t make the farmer dealing with it more accepting nor less aggravated.

I’ve been a lifetime proponent of spring ephemeral wildflowers, the woodland beauties that populate the forest floor between the onset of warming days and full leaf-out within the forest canopy. Retirement has enabled me to spend more time appreciating the summer wildflowers that seem happiest along forest edge habitat. Wingstem greeted me along the greenway.

A silvery checkerspot butterfly appreciated the wingstem for reasons other than aesthetic.

Ironweed is a summer perennial member of the aster family. I see it commonly on forest edges. I never tire of its rich color.

I recorded this 34-second video of another common forest edge woody species, osage orange. Maclura pomifera bears many common names, among them: mock orange, hedge apple, bow wood, horse apple, monkey ball, monkey brains, and yellow-wood.

European settlers found that a perimeter of osage orange stakes would self-sprout quickly into a dense fence-tangle of growth effective at protecting vegetable gardens and crops from marauding domestic grazers and foraging wildlife. Native Americans prized the wood for bow-making. I urge readers to dig more deeply into web sources to learn more about this curious and valuable small tree or shrub.

Osage orange is a member of the mulberry family. I recorded this 45-second video of our native red mulberry not far from the osage orange:

European settlers arriving along the Virginia coast in 1607 enthusiastically mentioned the abundance of mulberry, common from Florida to Ontario and west to the plains. Birds consume the sweet fruit and distribute the scarified seeds, which establish readily along edges and across meadows.

Here is my brief red mulberry video:

Black walnut prefers rich well-drained sites along streams like Indian Creek. This cluster of three hefty nuts portends a good walnut crop. Unlike the largely inedible osage orange fruits, many wildlife species lust for big meaty walnuts.

River birch’s moniker does more than hint at its preferred creek and riverside growing sites. I like its pendulant branching and exfoliating bark enough that we planted a three-stemmed specimen in our backyard. Our irrigation system meets its requirement for ample soil moisture even in periodic dry stretches.

I could not resist recording another short video of the greenway, its meadow corridor, the stunning sky, and the narrow forest edge, and a rough path heading to creekside.

Here is the 59-second video that transitions from the greenway through a narrow border forest to creekside:

Note the “candy cane” sewer line ventilation pipe along the greenway.

Were I not scheduled for knee surgery 11 days hence, I may have suppressed my videographic eagerness. However, each is brief and every one offers a unique emphasis. I recorded this 57-second video near my turn-around point at 3:02 PM, focusing on the brilliant sunshine and afternoon breeze (listen to it!), and including a short transit across the forest border to the shore of Indian Creek.

I’ll use this same video to begin my subsequent photo essay highlighting Indian Creek!

Thoughts and Reflections

I offer these observations:

There is no result in nature without a cause; understand the cause and you will have no need of the experiment. (Leonardo da Vinci)
Oh, how insulting to something as beautiful as ironweed to include “weed” in its name!
An urban greenway (along a sewer right-of-way) just 4.5 miles from my home supplies an endless stock of Nature’s fine elixir!

Inhale and absorb Nature’s elixir. May Nature Inspire, Inform, and Reward you!

Another Note: If you came to this post via a Facebook posting or by another route, please sign up now (no cost… no obligation) to receive my Blog Post email alerts: http://eepurl.com/cKLJdL

And Third: I am available for Nature-Inspired Speaking, Writing, and Consulting — contact me at steve.jones.0524@gmail.com

A reminder of my Personal and Professional Purpose, Passion, and Cause

If only more of us viewed our precious environment through the filters I employ. If only my mission and vision could be multiplied by untold orders of magnitude:

Mission: Employ writing and speaking to educate, inspire, and enable readers and listeners to understand, appreciate, and enjoy Nature… and accept and practice Earth Stewardship.

Vision:

People of all ages will pay greater attention to and engage more regularly with Nature… and will accept and practice informed and responsible Earth Stewardship.
They will see their relationship to our natural world with new eyes… and understand their Earth home more clearly.

Tagline/Motto: Steve (Great Blue Heron) encourages and seeks a better tomorrow through Nature-Inspired Living!

Steve’s Four Books

I wrote my books Nature Based Leadership (2016), Nature-Inspired Learning and Leading (2017), Weaned Seals and Snowy Summits: Stories of Passion for Place and Everyday Nature (2019; co-authored with Dr. Jennifer Wilhoit), and Dutton Land & Cattle: A Land Legacy Story (2023) to encourage all citizens to recognize and appreciate that every lesson for living, learning, serving, and leading is either written indelibly in or is powerfully inspired by Nature. All four of my books present compilations of personal experiences expressing my deep passion for Nature. All four books offer observations and reflections on my relationship with the natural world… and the broader implications for society. Order any from your local indie bookstore, or find them on IndieBound or other online sources such as Amazon and LifeRich.

I began writing books and Posts for several reasons:

I love hiking and exploring Nature
I see images I want to (and do) capture with my trusty iPhone camera
I enjoy explaining those images — an educator at heart
I don’t play golf!
I do love writing — it’s the hobby I never needed when my career consumed me
Judy suggested my writing is in large measure my legacy to our two kids, our five grandkids, and all the unborn generations beyond
And finally, perhaps my books and Blogs could reach beyond family and touch a few other lives… sow some seeds for the future

Brief Form Post # 36: Late August Afternoon along Indian Creek

October 2, 2024/in Updates /by Steve Jones

I am pleased to add the 36th of my GBH Brief Form Posts (Less than five minutes to read!) to my website. I tend to get a bit wordy with my routine Posts. I don’t want my enthusiasm for thoroughness and detail to discourage readers. So, I will publish these brief Posts regularly.

Here is the 59-second video that takes us from the greenway to Indian Creek:

I’ve seen the creek at this placid mid-summer level and I’ve visited the southern trailhead when flood water lapped at the signpost. An urban stream, Indian Creek flashes quickly with summer thunderstorm downpours and drenching winter and spring rains. On this August afternoon, the creek flowed placidly within its forest-sheltered bed and trickled to the right at a diversion deposited by a spring flood.

I recorded this 60-second video creekside:

I saw a short video recently. Its brief caption read, “A picture paints a thousanad words; a video is priceless.” I believe that by including these brief videos, I leave you with a deeper understanding of and appreciation for the beauty, magic, awe, inspiration, and wonder of the special places I visit here in my northern Alabama region. I remind readers that nothing in Nature is static. For example, Indian Creek is moody, showing this placid demeanor during the low flow of dry summer periods, and contrarily expressing flooding ferocity in response to summer downpurs and dormant season monsoonal spells.

I wondered when I spotted this 30-inch-diamter streambank sweetgum whether its scarred base evidenced floodwater debris battering, which would have made a convincing segue from the floodwater narrative. However, the tortured base is at 90 degrees to the stream flow. Instead, I have seen similar scarring on trees gnawed by beavers many years earlier. The chewing opens an infection court to decay fungi. Long after the guilty rodent fails to fell the tree and departs the scene, the scar persists and the wound deepens.

I return to the peaceful waters with this 40-second video:

This late summer creeping lilyturf in full flower caught my eye with its deep green grass-like foliage and sparkling white spikes. Even its name attracts and retains attention.

I leave you with this final 56-second video of streamside trees and the creek, a gnarled old easern red cedar, and a view back to the greenway:

While soothing and peaceful on this late summer afternoon, this is a harsh environment. Streambank scouring exposes roots. Flood-borne debris punishes trees and shrubs, and torrents power stream channel meanders that alter the creek’s passage across its wide floodplain. Again, nothing in Nature is static.

I accept the challenge of distilling these Brief-Form Posts into a single distinct reflection, a task far more elusive than assembling a dozen pithy statements. John Muir captured Nature sentiments far better than I, hence I borrow his reflection on flowing waters:

The rivers flow not past, but through us, thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing.

[Note] I’m publishing this Post six weeks following my August 20, 2024 total right knee replacement surgery. Progressing rapidly, I will soon be surpassing the strength, endurance, and stability afforded me on August 9, when I plodded along Indian Creek to capture images and videos for the photo essay.

Finding Nature’s Inspiration The Afternoon Prior to my Total Right Knee Replacement

September 17, 2024/in Updates /by Steve Jones

[Note]

I am publishing this photo essay four weeks to the day following my knee replacement surgery. I’m recovering remarkably well. I hope to return to woodland wanderings by mid-October!

The Photo Essay

My scheduled August 20, 2024 total right knee replacement surgery loomed months, then weeks, and then days ahead. Having survived, effortfully rehabilitated, and recovered from my January 2024 left knee replacement surgery, I knew what lay ahead for August 20, and the weeks and months beyond. Knowing that a medical exile from Nature wanderings would extend at least through September, I sauntered two miles (one out; one back) along Madison, Alabama’s Bradford Creek Greenway on the afternoon of August 19. I decided to commemorate my brief traverse with a photo essay highlighting the Nature-Buoyed Aging and Healing elements of this outing.

I’ll begin with this 58-second video near the Heritage School trailhead. I could not have selected a better sky, a more welcoming entrance, and a pleasanter embrace of an old forester seeking fortification for yet another looming major surgery, although not with life and death implications like my June 2023, triple bypass. Without orchestrating the video sequence (perhaps I should have planned the videos more carefully), two tall, large-crowned loblolly pines trees attracted my attention as I panned the camera. Both trees rose to their main canopy dominance by performance. I am reminded that my recovery, while biologically enabled at the cellular level (physiology), is largely paced by my own willingness to perform guided physical therapy.

Nature’s ambience, a simple pleasure, stirred my soul.

I focused dozens of my photo essays on our local greenways, which wisely combine sewer line rights-of-way, otherwise undevelopable wetlands, and an insatiable demand for recreational greenspace in the state’s fastest growing metropolitan area. Here’s my 59-second video capturing the idyllic result of thoughtful community planning:

I wonder how many greenway travelers (pedestrians and bikers) realize that the occasional manholes and sewer-gas-venting candy canes bely the true nature of these very pleasant travel ways?

I seldom allow the sewer reality to distract my appreciation for the beauty, magic, wonder, awe, and inspiration of these arterial natural zones that protect forested flood plains coursing through urban and suburban neighborhoods.

You do not need my feeble narrative to highlight the healing Nature of greenspace. Suffice it to say that I gathered symbolic medication for my pending holistic (body, mind, heart, soul, and spirit) healing and ongoing aging. I carried the elixir with me into the next morning’s pre-dawn appointment for preparation, surgery, and post-op.

The preparatory salve doesn’t require breaking hospital rules about carrying personal medication into the facility!

Nothing in Nature is Static

I’ve visited the greenway during active flooding attributable to prolonged winter/spring rains or following summer frog-stranglers. Runoff from the urbanizing basin flashes Bradford Creek more quickly than just a few decades ago. August 19 revealed a dry streambed punctuated by a few persistent pools and an occasional above ground trickle.

I recorded this 53-second video of one such reflective pool, the otherwise dry bed, and the adjacent greenway:

Madison logs an average of 55 inches of rainfall annually, distributed reliably across the seasons. I’ve measured only 0.29 inches through August 30. The pool below offers hope for eventual rains reviving life in the nearly dormant stream. Averages are the essence of life in any natural system. To prosper over the long haul, any organism must tolerate the extremes, feast and famine…drought and torrent…sauna and freezer. I look ahead to my next saunter on the greenway, when I hope to enjoy cooler temperatures and gurgling waters.

The pool occurrence assured me again and again that stream life will persevere. Water tupelo trees prefer wet feet. The large shoreline trees with gnarled surface roots in the water and buttressed lower trunks are tupelo. Along Bradford Creek, I sense that the tupelo embrace a measure of vanity, appreciating their reflection wherever I see them.

I have visited the 2.6 mile greenway many dozens of times since 2015. Tree reflections (no, not just tupelo) draw my attention, enticing me to absorb the image, no matter the season. Somehow the beautiful image retains fidelity to the substance of what stands above it…leaves, branches, sky, clouds. I have never observed a reflection that leaves a permanent mark. Reflections may be the most ephemeral facet of Nature.

I recorded this 50-second video of limited flow at the base of a tupelo:

Their propensity to grow along these flash-inclined streams subject tupelos to physical punishment from tree debris hurtling downstream. This mid-stream resident bears the scars of abuse, a tree of character.

I’ve admired this American beech near the Heritage School trailhead often. Appearing to stand on stilts, a beech seed germinated 80-90 years ago atop a decaying stump that served as a moist organic-matter-rich nursery soil. The seedling sent roots down the sides of the rotting stump into the welcoming floodplain mineral soil. The old stump has decomposed, leaving only the suggestion of its former shape and purpose in service to the beech seed and seedling at creekside.

I’ve observed often that every tree, every stand, and every forest has a compelling tale to tell. The beech, the tupelos, the stream cycles, and the greenway forest whisper their stories across the seasons. I’m grateful that I can sample their revealing volumes on short notice whenever I need a dose of their endless elixir.

Summer Color, 13-Year Cicada Postscript, and Future Promise

A lifelong fan of spring wildflowers, a spectacular late summer cardinal flower caught my eye trailside, encouraging me to record this 58-second video, focusing first on the cardinal flower, the greenway forest edge, a lone fallen hickory nut, and another look at the sky and the canopy overarching the greenway:

I have a lifelong bias for spring ephemeral wildflowers, a passion fomented where I spent my formative years in the central Appalachians, where the beauties seemed to appear before snow completely melted, and even preceeded the arrival of one or more of what I termed robin snows. I admit that I viewed summer bloomers, which eschewed the dark summer forests where I wandered, as meadow and roadside weeds. Age broadened my appreciation beyond that narrow window between the onset of spring’s early warmth and canopy closure abbreviating forest floor flowering. The cardinal flower grew luxuriately at the forest edge along the greenway. How could I possibly denigrate this exquisite exhibit by declaring it a weed?

Nothing in Nature is static. Just five month earlier, this greenway would have displayed chickweed, violet, spring beauty, henbit, and other species. Hickory trees may have been bursting vegetative and flower buds high above within the still open canopy. I’ve time traveled inexorably through spring into late summer, when a mature hickory nut lies on the same shoulder, visually signaling a new season. I wonder, perhaps feeling a little sorry for myself, how far beyond me do news and concern for my knee replacement extend. Immediate family, yes; a few friends and associates, yes; beyond that, no. Does the hickory nut care, no…absolutely not! I’m reminded, therefore, that while the greenway and its environs are my holistic elixir, there is no reciprocity. Hickory nuts have matured, fallen, and faced whatever fate for untold millennia prior to European settlement and even indigenous arrival. And they will do so for as many generations hence.

We human residents earlier this summer talked incessantly for weeks about the persistent grating hum of male 13-year cicadas, now long since gone for yet another extened period of subsurface renewal. What did they leave? Some frazzled nerves of people far too easily bothered by an inevitable reality of sharing a few weeks every 1.3 decades with a regional co-inhabitant life form. Thousands…no, millions…of 4-to-10-inch dead oak (not exclusively, but mostly oak) branchlets killed by cicada larvae hatched from eggs oviposited by freshly fertilized female adults. Life cycles are more compex for cicadas than for humans, yet I am sure far less drama is involved. The larvae feed on the twig cambium. The twig dies, leaving the small flagged branchlets. The nymphs (a next life stage) drop unhurt to the ground, dig deep, feed, grow, and emerge via new exit holes (this year’s still evident below in the dry floodplain soils).

Near the trailhead, this passion flower, another summer favorite, beckoned me. A weed? No way!

My August 19, 2024, journey covered only 90 minutes, far less than the time I’ve enjoyed translating the venture, its 18 photographs, and five brief videos into a semi-cogent photo essay. Although I have completed my tale for now, the Bradford Creek Greenway story is by no means finished. The Madison Greenways and Trails group is partnering with the City of Madison to extend the Greenway another 0ne-half mile north. Here is my 59-second video recorded where the extension will continue northward from where the current paved greenway veers west to the Heritage School parking lot and trailhead:

The sewer line right-of-way extends northward from the Heritage trailhead, promising mystery and hidden treasures.

Picture the paved extension passing through the deep floodplain forest. I am eager to track progress and to decide on a subsequent visit whether to saunter north or south. Nothing in Nature is static. So, too, should our human connections to Nature be ever-evolving. I applaud and thank those among us who are striving to make some small corner of the Earth better through wisdom, knowledge, and hard work.

Thoughts and Reflections

I offer these observations:

Visiting the Greenway the day before joint surgery afforded symbolic medication for my pending holistic (body, mind, heart, soul, and spirit) healing and ongoing aging.
I have never observed a water reflection that leaves a permanent mark. Reflections may be the most ephemeral facet of Nature.
Nothing in Nature, including the flow of our individual fleeting lives, is static.

Inhale and absorb Nature’s elixir. May Nature Inspire, Inform, and Reward you!

And Third: I am available for Nature-Inspired Speaking, Writing, and Consulting — contact me at steve.jones.0524@gmail.com

A reminder of my Personal and Professional Purpose, Passion, and Cause

If only more of us viewed our precious environment through the filters I employ. If only my mission and vision could be multiplied by untold orders of magnitude:

Mission: Employ writing and speaking to educate, inspire, and enable readers and listeners to understand, appreciate, and enjoy Nature… and accept and practice Earth Stewardship.

Vision:

People of all ages will pay greater attention to and engage more regularly with Nature… and will accept and practice informed and responsible Earth Stewardship.
They will see their relationship to our natural world with new eyes… and understand their Earth home more clearly.

Tagline/Motto: Steve (Great Blue Heron) encourages and seeks a better tomorrow through Nature-Inspired Living!

Steve’s Four Books

I wrote my books Nature Based Leadership (2016), Nature-Inspired Learning and Leading (2017), Weaned Seals and Snowy Summits: Stories of Passion for Place and Everyday Nature (2019; co-authored with Dr. Jennifer Wilhoit), and Dutton Land & Cattle: A Land Legacy Story (2023) to encourage all citizens to recognize and appreciate that every lesson for living, learning, serving, and leading is either written indelibly in or is powerfully inspired by Nature. All four of my books present compilations of personal experiences expressing my deep passion for Nature. All four books offer observations and reflections on my relationship with the natural world… and the broader implications for society. Order any from your local indie bookstore, or find them on IndieBound or other online sources such as Amazon and LifeRich.

I began writing books and Posts for several reasons:

I love hiking and exploring Nature
I see images I want to (and do) capture with my trusty iPhone camera
I enjoy explaining those images — an educator at heart
I don’t play golf!
I do love writing — it’s the hobby I never needed when my career consumed me
Judy suggested my writing is in large measure my legacy to our two kids, our five grandkids, and all the unborn generations beyond
And finally, perhaps my books and Blogs could reach beyond family and touch a few other lives… sow some seeds for the future

Brief-Form Post #34: Late April Birding Exploration at Madison, Alabama’s Creekwood Park and Indian Creek Greenway!

July 11, 2024/in Updates /by Steve Jones

I am pleased to add the 34th of my GBH Brief Form Posts (Less than five minutes to read!) to my website. I tend to get a bit wordy with my routine Posts. I don’t want my enthusiasm for thoroughness and detail to discourage readers. So I will publish these brief Posts regularly.

I am a wanna-be birder, a lifelong Nature enthusiast with a Forestry BS and a PhD in Applied Ecology, and a woodland wanderer wherever my life and travels have taken me. I’ve lived in Maryland, New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Georgia, Ohio, New Hampshire, North Carolina, West Virginia, and Alaska. I’ve journeyed to and through every state except Hawaii. International travels included Canada, Finland, Sweden, Norway, Kazakhstan, China, Japan, Germany, the Czech Republic, and Yugoslavia. I’ve heard and seen birds everywhere and wished to know their identity and story.

Finally, five years into retirement, I stepped toward learning more about the avian world. I enrolled in a University of Alabama in Huntsville OLLI (Osher Lifelong Learning Institute) North Alabama Birding course taught by Alabama A&M Professor Emeritus of Ornithology, Dr. Ken Ward. Our capstone field lab on April 25, 2024, took us to Madison Alabama’s Creekwood Park and adjacent Indian Creek Greenway, an area Ken described as a spring migration hotspot.

And so right he was! We (he) tallied 68 bird species seen, both seen and heard, or heard. You can review his comprehensive list at the end of this Post. I admit to deferring to his lifetime-trained ears for identifying species by call. He also spotted and identified fleeting images of treetop and brush inhabitants. I have a long way to go to become even an amateur birder. My knowledge and skills can go only in one direction. Ken and my classmates opened me to better ways of looking, hearing, and seeing.

I knew coming into the course that diverse habitats enrich species diversity, whether plants or all manner of living creatures. The Park and Greenway offered such diversity. Open meadows, mowed grass, woods edge, forest, stream, bog, and swamp comprised the areas we observed.

Our spirits soared on a perfect weather morning. Smiles and enthusiasm prevailed, along with a sense of wonder and awe for the avian variety we encountered.

Indian Creek had overflowed its banks more than once over the winter and spring. The forest below retained flood water not yet absorbed or drained, just one of the diverse habitats.

Indian Creek provided fresh flowing water. A mallard drake paddled contentedly at right.

I recorded this 60-second video of the stream at Creekwood Park

A willow thicket at the Park attracted throngs of cedar waxwings foraging willow seeds.

A small feeder freshet surged past butterweed blooms before emptying into Indian Creek.

I recorded this 30-second video of Indian Creek along the Greenway.

Beavers keep the wetland and swamp habitat intact south of the park along the Greenway.

The forester and tree enthusiast within me could not resist this park eastern red cedar, its roots tracing a comprehensive highway map.

I accept the challenge of distilling these Brief-Form Posts into a single distinct reflection, a task far more elusive than assembling a dozen pithy statements. Today, I borrow the words of John James Audubon:

If only the bird with the loveliest song sang, the forest would be a lonely place. Never give up listening to the sounds of birds.

NOTE: I place 3-5 short videos (15 seconds to three minutes) on my Steve Jones Great Blue Heron YouTube channel weekly. All relate to Nature-Inspired Life and Living. I encourage you to SUBSCRIBE! It’s FREE. Having more subscribers helps me spread my message of Informed and Responsible Earth Stewardship…locally and globally!

Appendix

Ken Ward’s tally for our excursion to Creekwood Park and Indian Creek Greenway, Madison, Alabama, US Apr 25, 2024 7:07 AM – 11:37 AM

Protocol: Traveling

4.5 mile(s)

68 species

Canada Goose 10 (species followed by number of individuals observed)

Mallard 6

Mourning Dove 8

Chimney Swift 4

Solitary Sandpiper 2

Great Egret 1

Great Blue Heron 5

Turkey Vulture 1

Bald Eagle 1

Red-shouldered Hawk 2

Belted Kingfisher 3

Red-bellied Woodpecker 14

Downy Woodpecker 10

Pileated Woodpecker 2

Northern Flicker 3

Eastern Wood-Pewee 4

Eastern Phoebe 5

Great Crested Flycatcher 1

Eastern Kingbird 2

White-eyed Vireo 8

Yellow-throated Vireo 1

Red-eyed Vireo 2

Blue Jay 10

American Crow 5

Carolina Chickadee 2

Tufted Titmouse 14

Northern Rough-winged Swallow 4

Barn Swallow 8

White-breasted Nuthatch 2

Blue-gray Gnatcatcher 5

House Wren 1

Carolina Wren 20

European Starling 10

Gray Catbird 4

Brown Thrasher 1

Northern Mockingbird 6

Eastern Bluebird 6

Wood Thrush 2

American Robin 30

Cedar Waxwing 35

House Finch 6

American Goldfinch 14

Chipping Sparrow 2

Field Sparrow 6

Song Sparrow 4

Eastern Towhee 1

Yellow-breasted Chat 1

Eastern Meadowlark 1

Orchard Oriole 1

Baltimore Oriole 1

Red-winged Blackbird 15

Brown-headed Cowbird 14

Common Grackle 27

Northern Waterthrush 2

Prothonotary Warbler 2

Tennessee Warbler 12

Nashville Warbler 1

Common Yellowthroat 2

Northern Parula 4

Yellow Warbler 2

Palm Warbler 1

Yellow-rumped Warbler 16

Yellow-throated Warbler 1

Summer Tanager 8

Scarlet Tanager 1

Northern Cardinal 25

Rose-breasted Grosbeak 1

Indigo Bunting 14

Brief Form Post #31: Borden Creek Trail within the Sipsey Wilderness on Bankhead NF!

May 8, 2024/in Updates /by Steve Jones

I am pleased to add the 31st of my GBH Brief Form Posts (Less than three minutes to read!) to my website. I tend to get a bit long-winded with my routine Posts. I don’t want my enthusiasm for thoroughness and detail to discourage readers. So I will publish these brief Posts regularly.

Brief-Form Post on my December 5, 2023, Excursion to Borden Creek in the Sipsey Wilderness!

I’m dipping into early winter 2023 with this Brief-Form Post. Fellow retired forester Chris Stuhlinger and I visited the Sipsey Wilderness within Bankhead National Forest on December 5, 2023. Scheduled for total left knee replacement surgery on January 23, 2024, I agreed to the trip with no small level of anxiety. Because I was unable to navigate the more difficult Sipsey Creek Trail, we decided to hike the old forest road leading to Borden Creek. I enjoyed the easy sauntering and the Nature we encountered along the way.

The road and its curved and banked bridge pre-dates the Sipsey Wilderness designation. The bridge provided an ideal location to pause and reflect on my ambulatory frustration, contemplate the looming surgery, and give thanks for being able to experience this lovely place.

I recorded this 32-second video from the old bridge:

I’m writing this text the second week of May, 2024, three-plus months beyond my left knee replacement. The many weeks of intensive physical therapy, countless hours of walking, and strengthening at the gym have paid dividends. The determination spurred by scenes like the one below led me to full recovery.

Now I await what could be my total right knee replacement in August. As the surgery date approaches I’ll revisit this Post to give hope and encouragement. I may even revisit Borden Creek for a spiritual boost…an emotional elixir.

Blue sky, full winter dormancy, and the sweet sound of flowing water filled my soul. Life is good when Nature surrounds and comforts us.

Always on the lookout for interesting natural phenomena, I spotted this upper canopy oak with a lightning scar extending from the ground as far as I could see into the crown. The bole has long since decayed…the tree is little more that a hemispheric rind of living wood, somehow supporting the mass of trunk and crown.

Although not necessarily a phenomenon, this moss-draped log on an otherwise barren forest floor, accented by the persistent oakleaf hydrangea leaf, caught my attention.

I accept the challenge of distilling these Brief-Form Posts into a single distinct reflection, a task far more elusive than assembling a dozen pithy statements. Today, I borrow a relevant reflection from John Muir, whose timeless Nature observations have brightened my life time and again:

Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine into trees.

Brief Form Post #29: Mid-March Attempt to Enter the Flint River-Flooded Goldsmith-Schiffman Wildlife Sanctuary

April 2, 2024/in Updates /by Steve Jones

I am pleased to add the 29th of my GBH Brief Form Posts (Less than three minutes to read!) to my website. I tend to get a bit long-winded with my routine Posts. I don’t want my enthusiasm for thoroughness and detail to discourage readers. So I will publish these brief Posts regularly.

Brief-Form Post on a Flooded-Out Tour of the Goldsmith-Schiffman Wildlife Sanctuary

Fellow Nature enthusiast Jim Chamberlain and I taught a spring term Huntsville, Alabama LearningQuest course on the Streams of Madison County. After the term ended, we hosted an unofficial field trip to the nearby Goldsmith-Schiffman Wildlife Sanctuary along the Flint River, on Saturday morning, March 16, 2024. The flooding Flint River secured the sanctity and solitude coveted by all Sanctuary wildlife residents, protecting them from our planned educational intrusion.

Among other topics we incorporated in our course, we spoke often of the tendency of our streams to flash with the heavy rains that treat our Cumberland Plateau region with 55-inches of rainfall annually. Wouldn’t you know it, a persistent front loaded with Gulf moisture dumped 2.34-inches the day before our outing. The flooding Flint River blocked our west-side entrance less that a quarter-mile from the Taylor Road parking lot.

The group posed in the photos above just in front of the red iron gate (see grandson Sam below during a far drier visit) where the trail takes visitors into the 400-acre floodplain Sanctuary.

Refusing to be deterred, we caravanned to the east entrance, where the Flint greeted us within sight of where we parked!

The still-rising River provided a clear signal that our Sanctuary sauntering would of necessity await a different stage in the life of the flashy Flint River.

I recorded this 31-second video before we departed for a substitute ramble along nearby Big Cove Creek Greenway:

I returned to the Sanctuary March 23, 2024, exploring a much more forgiving Sanctuary environment. I would have been at least knee deep looking northwest on the east entrance greenway 200 yards from where the group stood with the muddy floodwaters beyond, evidencing again the flashy nature of the Streams of Madison County.

I accept the challenge of distilling these Brief-Form Posts into a single distinct reflection, a task far more elusive than assembling a dozen pithy statements. Today, I borrow a relevant reflection from Aldo Leopold’s A Sand County Almanac, a book I rank as a premier collection of conservation and Nature-philosophy essays:

There are degrees and kinds of solitude. I know of no solitude so secure as one guarded by a spring flood; nor do the geese, who have seen more kinds and degrees of aloneness than I have.