NJ WILD readers know that my constant concern is preserving New Jersey open space, her wild lands.  Here is a major triumph through D&R Greenway Land Trust, where I work, and significant public and private partners.  The picture of those partners is viewable at www.drgreenway.org

Good news on this important preservation – reason to rejoice.A constellation of cooperation that soared far beyond Hopewell boundaries.

How very different that town, our region if that 1,020-house-plan had been fulfilled instead! To say nothing of carbon emissions…]

Representatives from the public and private partner organizations worked to make its preservation a reality. Jim Waltman, Executive Director, Stony Brook-Millstone Watershed Association; Susan Craft, Executive Director, State Farmland Preservation Program; Callie Considine, Hopewell Borough resident and private fundraiser; Patricia Sziber, Executive Director, Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space. Standing left to right: Mark Solomon, Partner, Pepper Hamilton LLP and Pro Bono Attorney for D&R Greenway; Paul Anzano, Mayor, Hopewell Borough; Brian Hughes, Mercer County Executive; Michael Markulec, Mayor, Hopewell Township; David Knights, Hopewell Borough Council President; Linda Mead, Executive Director D&R Greenway Land Trust; Leslie Davis Potter, Chair, St. Michael’s Preservation Committee; Vanessa Sandom, Hopewell Township Committee; Robert Johnston, D&R Greenway Trustee; Renée Jones, Central Team Leader, NJDEP Green Acres Program

home page: www.drgreenway.org

Community Unites to Save St. Michael’s!

What Was Averted:

Given current zoning regulations in Hopewell, the St. Michael’s land could have easily played host to 150 houses. A less likely, but legally permissible “worst case scenario” would have seen the site developed as a hamlet; this would have meant that up to 1,020 houses could have been built, with provisions for up to 76,000 square feet of office or commercial space. Development under hamlet designation would have more than doubled the existing number of households in Hopewell Borough, completely transforming the lifestyle the residents of this historic village enjoy today.

Public and Private Partners Preserve the St. Michael’s Property!

Princeton, NJ, January 26, 2009 – On January 19th, the deeds were signed that provide for the permanent preservation of the 340- acre St. Michael’s property in Hopewell.

According to D&R Greenway Land Trust Board Chair Richard Goldman, “The preservation of this property will forever safeguard the unique charm and character enjoyed by Hopewell Borough and Township today.”

D&R Greenway Land Trust led the preservation effort with a coalition of public funding partners that included the New Jersey State Agriculture Development Committee (Farmland Preservation Program), the New Jersey

Department of Environmental Protection Green Acres Program, Mercer County, Hopewell Township and Hopewell Borough, together, contributed more than $8 million toward the $11 million purchase price of the land.

Bordering the Borough of Hopewell to the south and east, the land encompasses 340 acres of farm fields and woodlands. Largely undisturbed since the Hopewell Valley was settled over 300 years ago, this property provides a direct link to the Borough’s agricultural history — and a beautiful, signature viewscape and for residents and visitors to enjoy.

The land is known as “St. Michael’s” because the St. Michael’s Orphanage and Industrial School was built on the property in 1896. The facility closed in 1973, but the land remained open and undeveloped. In 2004, the Roman Catholic Diocese of Trenton approached D&R Greenway Land Trust to see if a viable solution could be found to preserve the land as an alternative to selling the property to developers.

According to Rayanne Bennett, spokesperson for the Diocese of Trenton, “We are extremely pleased to have had a role in this effort to preserve open space in Hopewell through the sale of the St. Michael’s Orphanage property. It is fitting that this land, which once served the needs of so many children, will now bring enjoyment to the wider community. It has been a privilege to work with D&R Greenway and its partners in putting together this sale, and we are particularly grateful to our attorney Dave Roskos, who worked very hard these past few years to bring this to fruition.”

Private Fundraising Closed the Gap

In the summer of 2006, a group of concerned residents of Hopewell Borough and Township stepped forward to help D&R Greenway raise the remaining funds required to preserve the St. Michael’s land. The St. Michael’s Preservation Committee’s campaign began in September 2006 at the Hopewell Harvest Festival where the community was first made aware of the threat to develop St. Michael’s.

Leslie Davis Potter, Chair of the St. Michael’s Preservation Committee commented, “Community support for preserving St. Michael’s was phenomenal as was the dedication and enthusiasm of the Committee and the coverage in The Hopewell Valley News. Many grass-roots fundraising events were held – concerts, auctions and block parties. Support from over 800 individuals poured in. On Halloween night 2006, Callie Considine, a fourth grade student at Hopewell Elementary School, went door-to-door in her neighborhood collecting funds. Her commitment to the project grew and in total, she collected over $3,300 – truly an inspiration for young people.”

Additional contributions provided by Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space and the Stony-Brook Millstone Watershed Association and private contributions from The Willard T. C. Johnson Foundation, The Larson Land Fund, Bristol-Myers Squibb, completed the $11 million acquisition.”

“The preservation of this property protects more than 200 acres of farmland that will serve as an important agricultural resource for the surrounding community,” said Agriculture Secretary Douglas H. Fisher, who chairs the State Agriculture Development Committee. “As a result, we were pleased to provide an approximately $3 million grant – the largest we have ever awarded to a nonprofit organization – to partner in the preservation of this land, which was among the largest remaining unprotected farms in Mercer County.”

Given current zoning regulations in Hopewell, the St. Michael’s land could have easily played host to 150 houses. A less likely, but legally permissible “worst case scenario” would have seen the site developed as a hamlet; this would have meant that up to 1,020 houses could have been built, with provisions for up to 76,000 square feet of office or commercial space. Development under hamlet designation would have more than doubled the existing number of households in Hopewell Borough, completely transforming the lifestyle the residents of this historic village enjoy today.

“Preserving St. Michael’s has been a priority of the Borough of Hopewell for many years – and the primary reason the Borough established its local open space tax nearly a decade ago,” said Council President David Knights. “Permanently protecting the green belt at our borders is a critical element in our Master Plan because it not only preserves the character and landscape of Hopewell Borough for generations to come, but also because it conserves vital lands and natural resources”, he added. “The entire Hopewell Borough community supported this effort and we are very grateful to D&R Greenway and to all of our partners that we have reached this very successful conclusion”.

An Ecologically-Significant and Historic Landscape

Beyond its 220 acres of active farmland and prime agricultural soils, the St. Michael’s property encompasses a wide variety of environmental resources. Fallow fields and floodplains provide grassland, hedgerow and shrubland habitats for many species of birds. Wooded areas support mature trees that restore oxygen to the air and support the collection of ground water into aquifers. The Bedens Brook and its four tributaries cross the property providing scenic stream corridor habitat before emptying into the D&R Canal, helping to support an important source of drinking water for our region.

“It is a rare opportunity to preserve such a large, contiguous piece of property in New Jersey, and we were glad to join the many partners who contributed to this environmental victory,” said Department of Environmental Protection Acting Commissioner Bob Martin. “This property embodies all the benefits achieved from preserving open space - enhanced recreational opportunities, protected wildlife habitat and clean air and water.”

The Path to Preservation

It took more than six years to bring the St. Michael’s project to a successful conclusion. According to D&R Greenway Executive Director Linda Mead, “In the 20 years of D&R Greenway’s history this was by far the most intricate preservation project we’ve ever encountered.”

The St. Michael’s preservation project had the greatest number of public and private funding partners of any project D&R Greenway has ever worked on. In addition, two dump sites on the property – one associated with the original orphanage and farm and the other an illegal site off Aunt Molly Road – needed to be cleaned up to meet NJDEP standards before the state agencies would release funding. This work took two years to complete, with excellent results. In fact, the former Aunt Molly Road site will be transformed into a one-acre grove filled with native trees and shrubs, to become a model for studying the effects of carbon sequestration.

D&R Greenway’s Board Chair Richard Goldman commented, “We would especially like to thank Bob Harris and his company ENVIRON, Inc. for donating their services to D&R Greenway and advising us during the clean-up process. We also thank Mark Solomon of Pepper Hamilton LLP, pro bono attorney for D&R Greenway, who provided countless hours of legal counsel throughout the course of this project.”

“The preservation of the St. Michael property is a tremendous success story and provides a roadmap for public/private conservation moving forward” said Hopewell Township Mayor Michael Markulec. “D&R Greenway Land Trust, in cooperation with other non-profit organizations, local business, community groups, and municipal and county governments and the state came together to protect this environmentally sensitive property while also maintaining our history and agricultural heritage.”

Looking to the Future

First and foremost, D&R Greenway will continue to farm St. Michael’s. As they have been since Hopewell was settled over 300 years ago, the fields of this landscape will continue to be used for productive farming.

The wooded acres on the property support biodiversity and a healthy environment, safeguarding water resources and wildlife habitat. These non-agricultural open space acres can also provide a wealth of recreational opportunities. Plans are underway to identify trails through the non-agricultural portions of the property, for walking, horseback riding and nature study. St. Michael’s could, in time, become the hub for a regional trail network, linking to Princeton, Pennington and up into the Sourlands.

The preservation of the St. Michael’s property provides an amazing resource and benefit for the residents of Hopewell Borough and Township, Mercer County – indeed for all citizens of New Jersey.

Brian M. Hughes, Mercer County Executive observed, “Mercer County is pleased to be a partner in the preservation of this significant open space and farm parcel. In the current economic times, no one entity could have preserved this without the help of others and the significant contribution of individuals.”

D&R Greenway Executive Director Linda Mead added, “D&R Greenway Land Trust would like to acknowledge the perseverance of all our public partners, who worked side-by-side with us to see this project through, and the patience of all of our donors, who have eagerly anticipated the preservation of St. Michael’s.”

That day has finally come. D&R Greenway is planning a community celebration in the early summer to introduce the beauty of the landscape to everyone. The date and time will be announced in the spring.

Please note: D&R Greenway asks anyone who wants to see the property to stay on existing farm roads until trails have been marked and informational signs posted. Please visit only during daylight hours.

For the latest information about plans for St. Michael’s and information about D&R Greenway Land Trust please visit www.drgreenway.org.

Contact

Jo-Ann Munoz, Director of Communications, D&R Greenway Land Trust

609-924-4646 - jmunoz@drgreenway.org

Representatives from the public and private partner organizations worked to make its preservation a reality. Jim Waltman, Executive Director, Stony Brook-Millstone Watershed Association; Susan Craft, Executive Director, State Farmland Preservation Program; Callie Considine, Hopewell Borough resident and private fundraiser; Patricia Sziber, Executive Director, Friends of Hopewell Valley Open Space. Standing left to right: Mark Solomon, Partner, Pepper Hamilton LLP and Pro Bono Attorney for D&R Greenway; Paul Anzano, Mayor, Hopewell Borough; Brian Hughes, Mercer County Executive; Michael Markulec, Mayor, Hopewell Township; David Knights, Hopewell Borough Council President; Linda Mead, Executive Director D&R Greenway Land Trust; Leslie Davis Potter, Chair, St. Michael’s Preservation Committee; Vanessa Sandom, Hopewell Township Committee; Robert Johnston, D&R Greenway Trustee; Renée Jones, Central Team Leader, NJDEP Green Acres Program

Princeton Eagle carrying nesting material, by Brenda Jones

One of the greatest pleasures, maintaining NJ WILD for the Packet, is that people I don’t even know write comments about their own nature experiences.  Just now, I discovered a delight from someone of Rutgers, thrilled at having found ‘our’ eagle, just off Route 1, today.

I’m worried about our nesting pair, in this, their time of romance and usually successful breeding.

We’re building a hospital right next to their nest.  What are these wondrous wild ones doing about our depredations?

Eagles heartily dislike disturbance, –to the point that they will abandon not only nest but eggs, even chicks, when there are too many humans  — and very few constitute too many.

To say nothing of noise.  Let alone construction (which I always call DEstruction) vehicles rumbling on all sides.  And who knows what is being stirred up in all that debris.

If anyone knows how/where our eagles are now nesting - for I PRAY they have taken up residence elsewhere - I’d love to know. I won’t reveal the new site, rather honor it to the highest degree.  In fact, I don’t even need to know WHERE it is - only THAT it is.

New Jersey’s not that kind to its eagles.  Last week I heard tell of locals in a Delaware Bay County who, rather than halt development, chopped down three eagle trees  - in other words, trees holding nests.  Eagles remain with the same mate lifelong, “humans willin’ and the creek don’t rise…”  American bald eagles are faithful to the same nest site, improved assiduously each year.

Energy/calories demanded by new nest building, to say nothing of the physiological and I’ll say psychological impact of disturbance of this magnitude, would have been stolen from the egg-developing process.

We’re no angels.

Even though the Poetry Muse has been elbowed aside by the Preservation Muse, as NJ WILD readers know, sometimes poetry surges through.  Here’s one of a year ago, about the WILD in Illinois, sacred gift denied…

WILD VISITOR

last week, Chicago

was given a mountain lion

–prince of a fellow

sleek two-year-old

who’d trekked

all the way from Dakota

–crossing bridges

by moonlight

–pioneer in reverse

seeking new territory

now wildlife specialists

furiously justify

bullets

and my sister

is telling and telling

this tale I do not

want to hear:

“Well he was not

used to people

…Lincoln Park

highly populated”

cops bleat

“Cougars

are very difficult

to tranquilize”

the mayor worries

constituents

might sue

I know

but cannot say

my truth:

better cougars

than people

***

hours later, this arrives from Defenders of Wildlife!

Gruesome Panther Deaths Demand Action Only about 100 of these beautiful animals are left in the world.  Help us catch the killer and implement a comprehensive plan to save the remaining Big Cats. Donate now to help save the lives of endangered Florida panthers and other wildlife.

Dear Carolyn,

UCFP132, a beautiful Florida Panther, was recently killed by a vehicle and then beheaded along a highway – a gruesome mutilation of one of North America’s most endangered animals.

Deaths of these great cats are far too common. Please make a tax deductible donation of $15.00, $25.00, or another amount to help us catch illegal panther killers and save the lives of these highly endangered animals.

This terrible loss underscores the tragedy of the record number of endangered Florida panthers killed last year alone.

Just Monday night, the first panther death of 2010 was confirmed about one mile south of Corkscrew Road in Lee County, Florida – a two and a half year old male.

These big cats are some of the most endangered animals in the world. Their fight against extinction is only becoming more difficult as they are robbed of places to live and speeding cars turn them into roadkill.

Because of the caring support of people like you, I’m here in Florida leading the efforts of Defenders to save these amazing animals. Working with partners throughout the state, we have a comprehensive plan to save panthers from extinction.

Please make a tax-deductible donation today to help Defenders catch panther killers, set aside vital habitat for panthers and make Florida’s roadways safer for these big cats.

The need for funding to save our Florida panthers is urgent.

A four month-old female kitten was recently found dead alongside a road in Naples, FL. Sadly, there are only about 100 Florida panthers left in the world.

Last year, 24 panthers were killed. A record seventeen were lost to vehicle collisions. One was illegally shot, three died in territory conflicts and two deaths – including the brutal beheading of panther UCFP132 — remain under investigation.

Your compassionate donation will help us:

	Post rewards to catch the person who recently decapitated a panther that had been killed by a vehicle, help put illegal panther killers behind bars and investigate suspicious deaths of these endangered cats.
	Install high-tech wildlife sensors on “Heartbreak Highway” a road very deadly to panthers. These sensors can reduce wildlife vehicle collisions;
	Save panther habitat on the Caloosahatchee River, so that these rare cats can migrate northward and reclaim some of their historic range;
	Fight ill-conceived new road projects in Southern Florida that could increase road deaths and further fragment the habitat these great cats need to survive; and
	Develop solutions with responsible landowners to realize a future where panthers once more roam along more of their historic range in the American Southeast.

We can’t catch the panther killer or implement these other life-saving programs without the caring support of people like you. Please make your tax-deductible donation right now.

2010 is already turning into a deadly year for Florida panthers. But with your kind support we can help save the lives of the remaining endangered cats.

With Gratitude,

Elizabeth Fleming Florida Representative Defenders of Wildlife

P.S. The Florida panther killer is still on the loose. Help us stop senseless killings and protect the lives of these endangered big cats. Please make a secure donation online now to help save Florida panthers and other endangered wildlife, or call 1-800-385-9712 to contribute by phone.

In the very week of our “Last Child in the Snow” NJ WILD post, my Chicago sister sent an article from her Tribune that commands, “Go sledding.” 

Reporter Mary Schmich captures pluses and minuses of sledding in her memories.  The remoteness of sledding to this slip of a girl deepens my concern that we could be those who have seen “The Last Child in the Snow.” 

Of course, I am referencing Richard Louv’s seminal book, “Last Child in the Woods.”  Buy it.  Read it.  Do everything he suggests and dream up solutions of your own.  Join Children and Nature Network.  Above all, –as my theme has been since the year turned–, GET OUT THERE!  And not ONLY Children!

Reporter Mary Schmich put out a Facebook call for sledding spots near Chicago.  Is she kidding when the first she names is Evanston’s Mount Trashmore? 

“‘Sledding’ has a nice sound,” muses Mary.  “Innocent.  Romantic… the stuff of childhood lore… It seems pure in a way that skiing, with its pricey lift tickets, does not.”  No, she hasn’t read our post, but Mary ‘echoes’ my thoughts, my words, evokes my concerns over having lost the simple pleasures, such as sledding.

Mary ultimately finds a hill, even in prairie country, joins children whooshing down through Chicago’s ever-present snow:  “She gave [my] sled a shove and down the white hill it sailed.  The ride lasted 20 seconds.  It was scary.  It was great.  Go sledding.”

All week, Mary’s sled musings swirled in my head.  Driving to and from D&R Greenway each day, I attempted to recall nuances of sledding in far-off Michigan. 

“Sledding…”, some colleagues would repeat, as I mused out loud at work about the sleddings of yesteryear.  “Remember sledding?…”, some would half whisper, some lament, some going all drifty and dreamy. 

But it’s not the sled rememberers about whom I worry.  It’s those who might retort, “What’s sledding?”

It’s challenging to describe something basic and essential to those who have no idea what you are missing and mourning.  These notes began as I waited at the dentist’s.  I had to get the details down so I could attempt to share them before it’s too late.

“What Was Sledding?”

flinging yourself    

–at the top of a newly whitened hill–

onto gleaming slats of gold-brown wood

above the unblemished sharp scarlet runners 

of your Christmas-new    Flexible Flyer     sled

Why Flexible?

Because the sled’s flat steering bar had smooth oval ends just thick enough, just narrow enough to be easily grasped by wool-mittened child hands, heading downhill in belly-whop mode.  Neck arched back as far as it would go — gaze intensely forward, scanning all the other wool-wrapped kids spilled hither and yon from hill crest to foot.

Or, even more exciting, sitting right straight up, heels on the flexible steering mechanism.  A push, gentle or otherwise, from a neighbor or a friend, and you’d be launched.  The slightest pressure on the right zoomed your Flexible steed swiftly right.   Bending or pushing left took your winged Flyer off to the left.  The point was to get to the bottom without hitting any of our playmates catapulting past on their Flexible Flyers.

[We would draw on these swift instinctive action/choices a few years later when we started trying to drive Detroit streets.]

On our sleds, we zoomed down down down down, then sometimes right out onto the recently frozen pond              which was the best of all        we knew the pond had frozen when it was tablecloth white from scruffy edge to scruffy edge        sledding onto ice made our runs last longer — the whole wonderful point of being in snow, - it made time outdoors last longer. 

How I pity Mary Schmich with her mere 20 seconds! 

Sitting up high upon our responsive Flyers, we would be Queen or King of our Michigan hill. 

The cold that rendered us reluctant on school mornings electrified as we trudged back up that cemetery hill, tugging sleds, scarves over our mouths dampened by our breath.  Winter reddened cheeks, as we whipped and zipped in and out of strangers and friends, heading into that downhill wind.   “Again!” was the word of the day.

In belly-whop mode, sparkle particles were flung back from ruddy runners, miniaturized flakes that caught in eyebrows and lashes, blurring vision, filling our winter vista with whiteness and rainbows all at once.

Rosy cheeks and the condition of child appetites were concerns of parents in our childhood.  Too many children still ‘died a-aborning’.  There were years when cemeteries filled with young ones, such as the 1918 flu, tuberculosis, measles and smallpox and whooping cough.  My own rheumatic fever.  People had literally starved in the Great Depression, not that long before. 

So parents were really glad when we trooped in after our hours on the hill, Santa-cheeked and ravenous.  Midwestern food was plain - we we called beef meat and vice versa.  Baked potatoes.  Canned vegetables.  Not much to pique an appetite.  But the snow hills took care of that.  Parents didn’t worry at table when we came in from sledding.

Looking back, looking out over the vale of memory, hearing many-voiced laughters on that snow hill, I re-experience the hush that snow and winter brought to our lives.  There was a sense of privilege in being OUT THERE.  There was a knowing, never spoken, that, at any moment, every winter, sledding would come to an end.  We never considered that it might end forever.

Out on the hill was timelessness. 

Too young for nostalgia, yet we were linking to the Currier & Ives sleighrides on our parents’ walls, living those scenes of “Over the River and Through the Woods to Grandmother’s House”. 

Time after time, magic happened on the snow hills. 

Even boys and girls needed ‘escape’, required release.  But those formal, even clinical terms do not convey my meaning. 

Our Flexible Flyers gave us wings. 

If someone requires a word from me for the gifts of the snow hills, I’d call it freedom. 

p.s.  The Packet has ‘upgraded’ my management page for NJ WILD, which has removed my ability to insert media.  Dire commands in blood red greet every attempt to convey an image to you via my camera or the internet, let alone Brenda Jones’ or Tasha’s.  Well, I am a writer, first and foremost.  Here is your sledding story, in alphabets, not pixels…

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Blue Ridge Mountain Sports at the [Princeton, off Harrison Street] Shopping Center punningly insists that we “Get Down” so we can GET OUT and “See a New World in Winter.” 

BRMS is my kind of place, and manager Scott is not only knowledgeable but also experienced, and above all warmly welcoming, even witty. 

I’ve written posts in the past on gear that gets us OUT THERE.  Everyone at BRMS loves the outdoors, and knows what it takes to enjoy it, gear-wise, in non-bulky warmth and even chic.

Also, you can buy Sophie Glovier’s “Walk the Trails In and Around Princeton” – the best-selling guide to 16 preserved trails in our region – profits coming to our beloved D&R Greenway Land Trust (so there’s more OUT out there, preserved, in which to be OUT), Stony Brook-Millstone Watershed and Friends of Princeton Open Space.

Sophie and her evocative photographer, Bentley Drezner, will be at the Princeton Public Library on Saturday at 1 to share images and experiences in the process of creating this guide that fits in your trekking pants pocket without breaking your stride.  Every film and panel and Q&A at the Library’s Ecological Film Festival has been simply stellar – I’ve spent as many as 9 ½ consecutive hours, rapt, inspired, horrified (by factory farms, by pollution, by development) and ever more determined to bring preservation and stewardship to NJ WILD Readers so there’s some New Jersey left in which to PLAY!

For that’s what it’s all about, my insistence on being out there in winter. 

PLAY should be one of those rights, whose inalienability were so recently in question under a certain president who shall remain nameless.

I have to admit, the pens of our Founding Fathers had more important issues on their minds under King George III and all those proscriptions and taxes, not only tea, than play.

But there are no proscriptions against play now.  Sophie and Bentley’s treasure of a book and the gear at Blue Ridge Mountain Sports, in all seasons, serve as your passport to play.

NJ WILD Readers Have Turned to “Last Child in the Snow” 1012 times in 75 countries…

Here are a few comments, sent privately, in addition to those on the original post.

My High School Friend’s Granddaughter Enjoys Snow and Cold in Carolinas

I’ve received a broad range of reactions to my worried post titled “Last Child in The Snow”– some brave enough to write comments on the post.  Some not so forward, shall we say.  I do have their permission, however, to add these letters to NJ WILD, possibly to enlighten New Jersey snowphobes… 

From my childhood friend, Sandra Russell Gordon, formerly of Michigan, as am I - now of Charleston, South Carolina- her memories as crisp as mine:

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For NJ WILD readers - a look at all the birds Janet and I didn’t see on our strangely altered birding weekend/Christmas weekend in Cape May.  From Birdcapemay.org…  and please do support that fine site of sightings!

BirdCapeMay.org: The year in bird photos

Snowy Owl
Photo credit: Mike Fritz and birdcapemay.org

This excellent birding blog recaps a fascinating 2009 in Cape May birding with a two-part “Year in Pictures.”  Three excerpts follow: the Snowy Owls, the Ivory Gull and the Winter Storm.

Young Ivory Gull.
Photo credit: Kevin Karlson and birdcapemay.org

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Sandhill Crane
Photo credit: Mike Crewe and birdcapemay.org

A cold and stormy December was punctuated by a rare early-winter snowstorm on the 19th. The storm resulted in a postponement of the Cape May Christmas Bird Count, and also brought some lingering birds to Lily Lake, which was kept free of ice by bubblers. In the days following the storm, notable birds such as Green Heron, Glossy Ibis, Long-billed Dowitcher and Sandhill Crane were all found at the lake. Perhaps even more remarkable was the Ruby-throated Hummingbird that continued to linger through the storm in West Cape May.

Driving to and from D&R Greenway Land Trust, from my new Canal Road apartment, I am in neighborhoods all the time.  And every time I turn around, there’s another snow forecast, another snow event.  White dots begin to swirl even as I pen these lines.  But nobody’s ever OUT in it! 

When we were children, in Michigan, we LOVED snow!  Snow meant PLAY!  Snow forts.  Angels-in-the Snow. Once even igloos.  The best was ice on top of snow so we could walk and walk on the crust without ever breaking through.  Snow was simply fun!

Each November, my father’d somehow pour water at the perfect moment - while water still ran from the hose.  He’d aim it into our side yard, where he’d built short earth mounds around it to hold in the water.  This would freeze in the night.  The next morning, all the neighbor kids, –bundled in ugly woolen faded (wartime) snow clothes–, would skate round and round and round.  Our skates were ugly, especially the boys’!  Although some lucky girls’ feet had grown, so that new white figure skates might come with Santa.  There was an art to tying those skates -otherwise we’d have ‘weak ankles.’

Some of us barely knew how to stop.  A few could skate backwards.  We’d try to pirouette like Sonja Heine (sp?) but we couldn’t really.  Nobody could do figures.  Even so, until the the too soon dark, we’d all circle and swirl in the falling flakes.  The world always turned more silent in snow, our high-pitched child-voices somehow arriving from a distance or through a fabric, other than those thick half-wet ‘mufflers’ tied behind our heads, covering our chattering teeth.

Our mother, never an eager cook, would nevertheless bring out hot cocoa with big fat marshmallows, in thick cups.  Part of its purpose was simply the warm sweetness speeding to cold tummies.  Part was to warm our hands inside woolen mittens that didn’t REALLY work, but it didn’t matter, because somebody’s aunt or grandmother had made them with love.  They’d use thin bright yarns, also needed to decorate our Christmas trees and wrap the gifts (often in newspaper) of wartime.

Fathers or grandfathers had built high wooden sides onto Flexible Flyer sleds.  Taller children could then tug smaller ones around and around in the white miracle, –wool baby blankets tucked around tiny brothers and sisters, tight round knitted hats pulled down over little ears, so they could be outside too!

Of course there was snowball throwing, but never fights.  Snowball time was funny - we laughed, right out loud, a lot…  Outdoors, it wasn’t true that “children are to be seen and not heard.”

Best of all, when we had PACKING SNOW, we could build snowmen.  No, no snow women.  Nor snow dogs.  Snowmen.  With coal eyes - where did we get the coal?  Carrot nose.  Twig arms.  Sometimes coal buttons down the fat snow tummy.  Somebody’s long striped scarf around a nonexistent neck, the bright colors blowing in wind and flakes. 

But, I realize, –driving the empty snowed streets of Princeton in the 21st Century–, play as we know it is extinct.  There is no more being outdoors without a schedule, a coach, a soccer mom, overhead lights, a goal, victory and defeat.

As I make my way to Rosedale Road, there are no snow wings flanking chubby snow body imprints on any of the front yards.  No dad’s pulling a child round and round, let alone across a side-yard ice rink.  No snow tracks from metal sled runners glint in thin sun.

As Richard Louv alerts in Last Child in the Woods, children aren’t out in summertime, either.  There is no more mysterious, hilarious Hide and Seek, no Tapping on the Icebox extended until the streetlights come on. 

Children aren’t out at random in autumn, either, –jumping high, then plummeting with audible hilarity, into cushy-crispy leaf piles.  Partly because there are no more leaf bonfires to spice the autumn air and lure us irresistibly outdoors.  Partly because cacophonous leaf blowers blast all romance from that season.  We used wield tall fan-shaped rakes of something very pale brown or actually yellow, a substance like bamboo, which would swish and swish in the noisier leaves, as we built piles for our play and our parents’ bonfires.  It felt good to be helping dads tend to the lawn and driveway, even though the top of the rake was far above our heads.

21st century driving reveals there must have been a “Last Child in the Snow”.  I wonder when…

(Skiing doesn’t count - all that gear and lift tickets and competition and snowboarding.) 

By ‘play’, I mean the quiet games, not competitive.  The play that cost absolutely nothing, out in the snow  –reddening the cheeks and brightening the eyes, strengthening young bodies and filling the snappy air with laughter.  Making indelible, multi-sensory memories.

And, O, whatEVER happened to snowmen?  I can’t even find an evocative photograph to insert into this post - only cartoons.  I did discover pages of description, on-line:  “How To Build Your Snowman.”

I guess there aren’t snowmen any more, not outside in the snow. 

Until our Christmas Cape May journey.  All of a sudden, –between Goshen and Cape May Court House–, Janet and I began to discover yesterday’s snowmen.  Sun, which we basically missed on our pilgrimage, must’ve been out the day before.  Because all the snowpeople (yes, there were snowwomen and snowdogs) were tipping the same way, to the south and west. 

Lumpy and funny.  Adorned with vivid eyes and quirky hats.  Flapping scarves and lumpy noses and various forms of buttons.  Yes, snowpeople actually kept Janet and me company on that long empty winter road to the beach, to New Jersey’s Land’s End.  One house even had a snow family, three tipping snowcreatures, leaning toward sundown.

I was going to call this post, “Whatever Happened to Snowmen?”  And I still do, in my heart. 

What a tragedy that, –except in South Jersey–, nobody plays in snow. 

There really must have been a Last Child in the Snow.  I wonder when.  I wonder who…

What are you going to do about that? 

Join Children and Nature Network?

Go out and play in the snow?

Let me know…