I have a life of discussion in and outside of the labor of Conservation Corps. Small talk has never been my forte. I often find myself bored of conversations with new people because I don’t desire to simply break the ice with them; I want to smash the ice to smithereens and sail away with them on an iceberg.
There is something about that little bubbling noise of a creek that brings my entire life into perspective. The water is carefree. It has no recollection of itself nor does it worry about others. All it knows is to flow with the constant pull of gravity downstream. But if I were a creek, I would hope to flow to the ocean. I want to be a part of something greater than myself.
Ever wonder what an oak tree talking to another oak sounds like? I know… Oak-Oak-OAK.
An oak savanna -- especially one that doesn’t need management – is a rare ecosystem.
“Wow, it’s a bee just chillin’ on my glove,” I thought to myself as I stared at the yellow jacket! I tried not to disturb it while I looked down to find my next stump to spray. By the next time I looked up five more yellow jackets had joined the glove party. I got a little concerned about this gathering once I noticed that they were trying to sting me through my gloves.