Stephen Maier                                                                   13 September 2009

Wall Pond

As I am nestled in a clearing between overgrown grass and the banks of the pond the clock strikes three.  Wall Pond is bustling with wildlife. From the calls of a crow resting high in the branches of an evergreen to the perpetual chirping of crickets in the field surrounding me, I feel as though I am part of nature. The water of the pond is littered with lilies; the end of summer approaches and the pink flowers are in full bloom. They are putting on a show for the fauna that call this place home. A young bird cries for his mother in a tree on the edge of the pond opposite the crow. The life inside the water keeps up its continuous serenade as the clouds crawl slowly overhead towards the Clark Art Museum. The sun pokes its head out occasionally when the clouds permit and human visitors take advantage of the view when this occurs. A dragonfly lands on my keyboard as I type and departs when I touch the key he has claimed for his landing pad. A fly quickly takes the dragonfly’s place and then leaps to the screen panel and dances for me. As I scan the pond for its eccentricities, I notice two dragonflies mating in air while others find resting pads in the water’s edge’s flora. Among these plants are beautiful, tiny flowers with purple petals and yellow stigmas. Some tall yellow, grass-like growth inhabits several sections of the banks. On the edge closest to the Museum live more than a dozen trees with stature greater than fifty feet tall. Twenty minutes pass with little activity until a flock of ducks startles me while franticly escaping danger. The predator is a cute Labrador Retriever, chocolate in color, clenching a fluorescent orange toy in his teeth. He runs into the water and swims after the birds in an attempt that seems to be playful and amiable. He is totally harmless in his efforts, but the ducks cannot fathom this. They cry for help loudly, but it lasts for only a couple minutes. The dog swims back to shore and the ducks carry on with their diving below the water’s surface.  The water is still save the locations where the ducks are swimming and fishing. A visitor sneaks up beside me to capture the beauty of the site in a still frame. And another does the same on the opposite side of the pond. As I revisit the trees, I notice one evergreen in particular that is intriguing. It appears to be in the midst of falling into the water, but I assume this is the way it grows to seek sunlight amongst the rest of his brothers and sisters within his ten-foot radius. Nearly all branches are enjoying the breeze, as I am, but two or three seem to be taking a dip in the pond. Forty-five minutes have passed and the ducks are quiet, but the crow has returned and made his presence known and the crickets are relentless. For the past fifteen minutes I have been exploring different views and perspectives of the pond. All paint the same pretty picture: water lilies scattered throughout the lively pond, leaving the middle unoccupied, and plenty of company to utilize its valuable resources. The insects love the stagnant water; the ducks love the fish and apparently the lily pads; the dog loves the ducks; the plants and trees love the water; the birds love the trees and the worms that likely live in the wet soil; and the humans love the scenic portrait. If one were to glance at Wall Pond, he/she would assume there is not much happening. But to the interpreting observer, there is a whole new world that goes undiscovered. My excursion comes to an end as the clock reads four, and the ducks voice their goodbyes to me. I return the favor and promise to return again.

The Path Less Traveled By  –Claudia Corona

From Williamstown, the way to Ford Glen Brook is mildly long, but it is so within good reason. The way to Ford Glen Brook is a transition, from the bustling town, to the quiet houses along Bulkley street, to NorthWest Hill road; where forest land becomes more pronounced, until finally you reach gravel road, announcing the beginning of Hopkins Forest, and the entrance to a world with not much to say, but lots to show.

Straight ahead on Northwest Hill Road you see a huge house-like sign with an emblem on it that says: “Hopkins Forest”. This road diverges into two, one leads to the Rosenberg Center and the other beat up path continues up. Look ahead into the distance of Northwest Road (on the right) and you’ll be able to see the Ford Glen Brook bridge, and you’ll know this road less traveled by is the one you need to take.

Walking across the bridge, you’ll hear as well as see the stream run along the rocks below. This stream isn’t wide, like the Hudson river, or very long, like the Mississippi river, but it’s just as important to the thirsty trees, the parched squirrels, and the dry soil, as any other body of water is to their surrounding environment. About 99 feet from the bridge, there is a path to the right that opens up into a trail about 7 feet wide. This trail is known as the Ford Glen Brook trail, and it is the path you’ll take to get to your destination.

As you make the turn you’ll see two fallen logs, about two feet long, right in front on the path. And then up ahead, there will be a huge horizontal white bar in the way of the trail. This bar is not to keep people away but to impede motor vehicles from entering. About 10 feet before you get to the bar, there is a little footpath on the left that goes around the white bar, and enables you to keep on walking on the trail. Once you get back onto the main trail, you’ll notice that you can hear running water nearby, that is Ford Glen Brook that you just walked over, and the trail is actually adjacent to the brook, so you’ll be able to hear the stream as it runs over and under rocks all throughout your time on the trail. You’ll also notice a lot of leaves on the ground as you follow the trail and go deeper into the forest. The amount of leaf litter is definitely more than usual, and is due to the trees shedding their leaves. Since the days are getting shorter and shorter, the photosynthesis that trees can produce is limited, thus causing them to shed their leaves to sustain energy and “rest” during winter.

Walking down the trail, you’ll notice lots of flora on either side of the path. The bright green lance-shaped leaflets are Northern Lady Fern. The smooth branching stems bearing tiny, white rayless flowers are White Snake Root. The trees with the grayish-white bark are paper birch trees and the really tall(100-120 feet high) dark brown trees with crooked lines running parallel to each other and crown rounded leaves are sugar maples. About 40 feet ahead of the metal bar, the ground floor becomes more visible as the leaf litter lessens, and it will feel muddier and be a dark brown color. The trees during these next 45 feet are farther away from the trail and more clustered together, so their leaves tend to fall in one general direction, usually, not on this part of the trail. Walking on, you’ll pass a huge Sugar Maple tree with about 2-3 feet in diameter. A couple of steps ahead, there is a fallen log that looks to have been embedded into the trail, that you have to step over in order to continue exploring. But wait a second. If you stop and look at the right side of the log-step closely, you’ll notice a small, about three feet long, foot trail. Walk on the trail, and a few feet ahead, there will be some fallen birch trees scattered across your path. But you’ve gone too far to be stopped by some fallen logs now! So climb over them and once you’re over that (a couple steps ahead), you’ll have a great view of the Ford Glen Brook stream running along!

Field Journal 1

Jon Levinsohn

It was September 25^th, 2009, at 9:00 when I surveyed the site. The site is composed of three sections, which form consecutive bands that parallel the river on the north and the graveyard on the south. The first is a steep section that covers the area from the border of the woods with the graveyard to the flat meadow like area at the base of the incline. The meadow area extends for 50 feet to a sudden 3-foot mini-cliff, where the land once again is relatively flat and bordered on the south by the Green River.

The first section is composed of Norway maple, sumac, grape vine and white snake root bordering the manicured grass. As one walks downhill (north) towards the river the trees become less dense quickly and the ground is mostly free of vegetation larger than small ferns. The ground is, however, covered with dead branches and trunks of fallen trees and dry, decomposing leaves; only some of these leaves and branches resemble the living plants in section one. There are two divets the lead straight south. One is small, no more than 6 inches wide, and less than 2 inches deep. The second is 2 feet wide and 1 foot deep, and it contains sections of cement pipe, which were 2 feet long and 1 foot wide, along with yard trimmings. The downhill that defines the first section ends abruptly.

The second section begins and the canopy that blanketed section one in the shade, does not shield the ground in section two from sunlight. Aside from the patch of sensitive fern that is about 5 feet by 5 feet, the section is dominated by dense shrubbery; it took me 10 minutes to travel about 50 feet. Most of this shrubbery is the foreign invasive exotics of buckthorn and honeysuckle, however other plants do exist in this area, such as golden rod, though I could not identify the majority of them and many lacked any leaves; The species that made my travel so difficult was a species that has a dense network of thin branches that appear to reach everywhere emanating from a small area forming a fountain like shape, and no leaves. The section is so thick that it was difficult to examine the ground. Towards the end of this second section, there is another small area of trees, which I believe are mostly ash.

The 3 foot drop that separates the final two sections is mostly made up of a dark brown dirt and roots from the nearby ash trees, though several large rocks jut out and can been seen as well. These rocks appear to be marble as they seem to have parallel planes along edges. This is suggestive that the rocks are marble instead of quartzite, the other likely rock in the area. I was not equipped with a knife, so I could not test the hardness of these rocks and be more certain of the rocks’ identity.

After the drop, there is a large section of New York aster and golden rod along a flat section of land. The soil was still muddy. The golden rod, though, were not standing up straight. In fact they all stood at an acute angle pointing east, which happens to be the same direction that the water in the Green River flows. Upon closer inspection of the area, it is clear that this section appears to be an alternate route for the water when the rainfall is large enough. There is a small depression throughout the area it opens out into the green. West of this section, there is a pool of standing water next to immense piles of dead branches. I had difficulty in identifying the species that these branches belonged to as these branches all lacked leaves. There is another cluster of trees up a slight incline that leads toward the river. These trees are mostly Norway maple, though the cluster also includes a sugar maple. The ground slopes gently into the Green river on the other side of these clusters of trees. Small rocks litter the river and stick up through the shallow water. Houses can be seen on the other shore.

Field mapKristen Sinicariello
Site Description #1
Syndicate Road Woods
Wednesday, September 23rd, 2009

The weather was hot and humid as I made my way to the Syndicate Road wood site.  Today I planned to take a new approach when surveying the site.  During my last visit, I chose a few spots to sit down and closely observe the natural area that surrounded me.  I noticed the positions of the trees, rocks and stream.  This time, however, I planned to pursue a more continuous observation method, by walking alongside the trickling stream in order to find not only its origin but the formations it had caused and the plants it had given life to.
On the opposite side where Baxter Road meets Syndicate Road, a large plastic pipe about two feet in diameter passes under the road and releases a tiny trickle of water into the small stream.  There are many fallen branches blocking the stream’s path, and the water has formed a large puddle of dark and murky water.  The stream, or may I say the small trench the stream must fill when there is more precipitation, continues about 15 yards East, and then makes a gradual turn and begins to flow North.  Throughout its change in direction, the stream becomes almost dry, and all that remains are the small rocks that cover the muddy bank.  A large crevice intersects the stream at its turning point, which seems to have come from the road.  I imagine that water flows down this crevice to meet the stream at certain wet points during the year.  A few more broken drainage pipes (both cement and plastic) also lay strewn about at this point, but obviously no longer serve a purpose.
The north and east sides of the stream are higher in elevation than the south and west banks.  After the bend in the stream, the eastern bank becomes a steeper hill, leading up to Cole Field.  This hill is covered with pine trees and various ferns.  On the western bank after the bend in the stream there is evidence of extreme erosion, and one maple tree is left with most of its roots completely exposed.
As the stream continues to trickle north its crevice becomes much thinner and more vegetation covers the area.  It is at about this point when the telephone line crosses over the stream on its path northeast.  As I struggle to make my way through the thorny branches and prickly leaves, I have to cross to the west bank because the eastern bank has become a steep cliff and is impossible to walk along.  Here, the type of vegetation changes and it is almost impossible to see the stream.  There are no trees, only ferns, bushes and leafy plants.  I begin to “bushwack” my way westward out of the woods and find myself in someone’s backyard.  I walked quickly back to the road and back towards the entrance to the wood.  By making a map and studying the terrain, I have learned much more about my site, the stream, and the life around it.
I noticed a few more things in the wood this time, including a honeysuckle bush and many sugar maple trees (now that I am able to identify them).  I watched two chipmunks chase each other up and down the banks of the stream and in and out of their multiple holes in the ground.  The leaves have begun to change and a bit more yellow dots the mostly green canopy of foliage.  I also noticed many red maple leaves that had already fallen to the ground.

Nathaniel Basch-Gould – Wall’s Pond – Blog #1 – September 25, 2009 – 2:00 pm
Another beautiful day at Wall’s Pond. The sun is high and there are just a few fluffy culumus clouds off to the south. It’s about 60 degrees – a cool breeze from the southwest at 5-10 mph tempers the sun’s warmth just enough to make jeans and a tee-shirt the optimal getup. I notice that the construction around the town rotary has stopped and the pond today is much more tranquil than when last I was here, despite some museum-going lunchers at the picnic tables near the southeast entrance. What a day; it’s truly a pleasure to sit out on the eastern edge of the pond and observe the other changes from my last visit.
Walls PondWalls Pond Leaves at the top of the maple to the north of the pond (I could find no suitable identification in the Audobon guide, but will keep looking) have begun to turn a burnt red color. Likewise some of the beech and ash along the western boundary (between the parking lot and the pond) have started to turn yellow and red as well. The lily pad cover has thinned out a bit since last time, as well, and this time the closed buds that I had spotted on pond surface were open, and identified them as fragrant water-lily.
Some other flora that I have identified since last time:
– Goldenrod, growing copiously in the grasses around the pond’s edge
– True forget-me-not, interspersed occasionally in the pond grasses
– Mugwort, the dominating flora around the pond’s edge
– Arrowhead, in the shallows
– White pine, dominates the southern edge of the pond
There were several species of maple which I could not match to anything in the Audobon guide. With some more time I can most likely attribute them as well; perhaps deeper into the fall the color-changing foliage will provide some more answers. There was also a very tall (8-10’) grass or weed that had grown taller since my last visit that I was unable to find in the Audobon guide. It has bursts of small fluffy buds coming out at the top in clumps of three, with some errant grassy shoots all the way up the main stalk. Perhaps the internet will yield some results.
I was more aware today, also, of the topography surrounding Wall’s Pond. The pond itself is a mere football field away from the foot of Stone Hill, the major topographical landmark in the area, and one of the more prominent lookout spots in a town full of prominent lookout spots. The water level pond sits about 15 feet lower than the elevation of the parking lot (more or less even with the bottom of Stone Hill) and this makes for a rather steep embankment that runs all along the southern edge of the pond and about halfway up the western side.
The eastern edge of the pond, however, sports a much more gently sloping embankment that rises from the water’s edge about 5 feet (over a run of more than 30 feet) leveling off in the field that stretches around the eastern and northern sides of the pond. This slope continues around to the north, where, past the large maple and the bench, the pond-side field has it’s highest elevation – about even with the parking lot. To the east of this point, about 30 or 40 feet, is a downhill slope that culminates in the low point of the field, a trough, running about 100 feet from north to south and maybe 50 feet east to west, that about 5 feet lower in elevation than the water level of the pond. In terms of bodies of water, my experience has been exclusive to the inlets and harbors of Cape Cod, all tidal areas where even low points and hollows set well back from the beach hold a little water at high tide. It thus perplexes me that this point, which sets well below the water level of a sizeable pond just yards away, should not have standing water all the time. But, this is very clearly a different place with a different topography and I’m excited to get to know it even better.

Stephen Maier

As Amy Hempel notes in Seeing, nature is a “now-you-see-it, now-you-don’t affair.” Blinking can lead to the fate of al

lowing one bee to fly past and pollinate a plant just beneath you without your noticing.  Or you look down to tie your shoes and you hear the footsteps of a squirrel scampering away. Or a tree rustles and you realize the bird is gone. It is true that time is of the essence. So much can change with so little time. Even just a week can change the way a site in nature looks. Though I have yet to familiarize myself with where I am headed, the West Clark Woods, I am familiar with its surroundings. Just over a week ago, I was sitting in a clearing absorbing nature around Wall Pond, which lies about a quarter of a mile southeast of the West Clark Woods. As I walk past it today, its lilies configure a new design in the water and the animal life I had seen days before is not present. But today, Saturday, September 19, 2009, I have a new opportunity, a chance to explore a place foreign to me.

I enter the West Clark Woods from the east at 11:46 a.m., where an established cow path intersects with a trail cleared by humans. I only need two steps to recognize the landscape. Paper birch and hemlock trees inhabit a hilly terrain. The ground is layered with a wispy coat of fallen foliage. It creates a carpet for all to walk on. As I descend further into the woods I reach the base of the slope, about fifty yards down. Here sits a small, idle body of water thickly populated by New England Asters. There is a small island about twenty feet from the banks where I stand. An overgrown, dead thicket lives on the small piece of land, but a twenty foot tall Yellow Birch dominates the other flora there. I proceed to scan the forest finding several traces of man’s presence in nature. A tennis ball, faded over time, sits in the wetland covered by a single, broken branch. An empty beer can conspicuously lies in the middle of a clearing on the hill. And a broken, black, plastic flowerpot hides in the dark underbrush on the edge of the water.

To the north are more trees, most standing but some downed. The sun penetrates the edges of the woods from the east and the canopy blocks any light from entering into the clearing I stand in. The temperature is a balmy 60°F due to the lack of sunshine, but the brisk breeze feels icy in the shade; walking along the cow path seemed about ten degrees warmer. In the south is more tree life, but upon further inspection, I notice animal prints in the mud. The tracks are large and hoofed leading me to consider the obvious. I ponder for a minute. If I came in on a cow path, there must be cows. And in typical New England farm settings, horses accompany cows; therefore horses must travel into the woods and down the hill to drink the water. The wetland is due west. Anxious for more, I look beyond the asters and the single Yellow Birch protruding from this island. The silhouette of a mountain range paints an aesthetic view off in the distance. I am curious as to which mountains those are. The clear blue sky above helps complement the view and I stand in awe. This is a hearty awakening in multiple aspects. First, this is a glorious way to start a Saturday morning, and second, natural beauty is far more enticing than all that is artificial.

As I start to pack my bag to depart, I begin to wonder. Does this wetland exist year-round? Why are there so many fallen trees? Was there a blight or has the weather contributed to this damage? The sounds of a plane overhead and a dump truck on Route 7 interrupt my thoughts and it is back to reality. It is now 12:56 p.m. I climb the hill to exit the West Clark Woods only to be greeted by a four-legged ball of love. The sable rough collie licks my face and I am told he is fourteen. Life sure is beautiful no matter how old you are.

Overhead view sketched of the surroundings of the West Clark Woods.

Eric Outterson
Professor Hank Art
Natural History of the Berkshires
Site #1

The Shape of the Land

At 3:00PM September 24th 2009 I again surveyed the Stetson Woods Parking lot.  I’m here to see how much has changed, and to get a better sense of the terrain here.  The first change I noticed was that the weather was nicer than last week, with a light breeze and temperatures around 70 degrees.  The clouds were at places wispy and sometimes fluffy but left open vast patches of blue in the sky.  The animals in the area seemed to agree that this was a nicer time to be out since I was greeted by two squirrels at the northeastern corner of the woods.
This was not the only change, however; on the northern side a maple tree had begun to turn red and defoliate.  The branches hung over the parking lot and so covered both the dirt in the woods and asphalt of the parking with brilliant yellow-red leaves.  Giving a quick survey of the outer edges of the woods before I went in, I noticed that all of the plants in the woods appeared to be less lush than I’d seen in the previous week and visibility through the woods was easier than before.  As I entered, I got caught on a small thorn bush, not remembering sighting one my last trip.  I was glad that there was still no poison ivy.
But not everything had changed, as mosquitoes still managed to get me itching about 5 minutes after walking into the center of the woods.  The central depression in the woods still appeared to be quite hospitable to them.  The shape of the forest had not changed either; it was still a rough rectangle with the chapel facing (Southwest) edge descending quickly about 25 feet to a depression in the middle of the site from which the ground ascends slightly to the northeastern corner.  I imagined the general shaped to be that of a bowl missing some of its walls.

Using my front bicycle tire as a trundle wheel I walked my bike around the enclosed wooded area to test out my bowl idea.  After measuring out each of the sides, my previous estimate of the area as ¼ appears to be just right.  The north curb is 105 feet long, the northwest is 125, the southwest is 175 and the East is 140 (see map).  When looking at the map, however, the distances may not match up exactly with proper proportions because of the nature of the sloping terrain.  In paying closer attention to corners of the curbs which dictate the shape of the site I realized that my “bowl” had four definite corners and had unfortunately been damaged beyond appearing like any serving dish.  As a result, I drew an elevation map which should do a better job of describing what I cannot.

From the center of the southwestern edge, there is a break in the trees with a series of large dark colored rocks that serve as steps (but are clearly not man-made) down to the center of the woods.  Looking up from any near central position gives you an obscured view of the sky.  Occasionally it is small trees that block out the blue sky ten feet above your head, and sometimes it is the large trees growing towards the outer edges of the site that block most of your view.  But the trees positioned on the highest edge by the Thompson Memorial Chapel always had some of their wide reaching branches in view.
Aside from the early leaves turning on one of the maples at my site and the slightly less coy animal life, little had changed but my own perception.  I now saw thorns and shape like I hadn’t before.  The terrain had not changed and the plants had changed little.  I realize now, all that had really changed in the past week was the shape of my ideas.

Gordon Smith
Natural History of the Berkshires
9/22/09

Field Journal #1: Mapping and Placement

First in this entry, I will attempt to annotate the map I have created and further explain how the plant life is situated, as well as how the site itself is situated in the world around it. Then, I will supply some corrections and updates on my previous journal concerning for the most part plant species and land usage.

Below this entry are two maps: a detailed map of the site and a map of surrounding landmarks (in this case the Mission Park Dormitory and Mission Park Road) as well as the key for both maps. As the attached map will show, my field site is laid out in a more or less wedge shape, with the tip pointing towards the Mission dormitory (more or less north) and the wider, opposite side pointing towards Route 2 and south. The northerly point of the wedge is at a lower elevation from the south side, and though I do not possess adequate equipment to measure the height of the hill that is climbed as one follows the site north to south, I would estimate it at somewhere between 20 and 25 feet. There is also elevation gained when moving from the southeastern corner towards the southwestern, which I would estimate at about 10 feet.

The south edge of the site is split, with a mowed indentation that bulges around the Haystack Monument and a few benches. The largest trees are bunched around the center of the site, but the outlying trees are also of a reasonable size. As the map shows, there are more coniferous trees than there are deciduous trees: 29 to 14 to be exact. Furthermore, the deciduous trees seem to be for the most part along the western edge of the site, while the conifers occupy the center and eastern sides of the site. It is unclear whether or not this is due to a natural reason, or whether it is simply the planting pattern that was decided on for the area. This second possibility is more likely: a picture of the Haystack Memorial in 1906 does not contain a single tree. For this reason, it would be easier to assume that all of the plants had been placed for decoration reasonably recently.

In my first entry, there were many plants that I simply described due to the fact that I did not know their species names. Here I will identify a few of the species I did not know.

The pale green ferns with interconnected fronds are sensitive ferns. As can be seen on the map, they are concentrated in a patch on the west edge of the site. The purple flowers with tube-shaped petals are red clover. The small white flowers with the yellow centers are white wood asters, and are mainly found in the spaces indicated as showing dirt. As for the dandelion-like flowers, I cannot be sure, as they seem to have disappeared. It is likely, however, that they were a species of autumn dandelion that is late blooming. The most common leafy plant (with three branches of three leaves) is goutweed. Another correction is that the birch I called gray is in fact a white, or paper birch.

For some reason, I also neglected to investigate the animal life of the site. The area is in fact home to many squirrels, which are evident both in the trees and on the ground, eating and storing acorns and pinecones. I have also seen since the last time I wrote a family of deer running through the stand of trees, though I do not believe they stayed long to eat. These occasional visitors may, however, be the reason that there are no moderately sized bushes in the area, though it is more likely the result of the college groundskeepers.

The history of the site was also not taken into consideration; I was previously unsure how old the grove was, and was not aware of the fact that the Haystack monument celebrated the “Birthplace of American Foreign Missions” (-Haystack Monument).

It is obvious at this point that the site will soon change drastically from summer vegetation to fall vegetation, and further updates will track this change.

Eric Outterson

Professor Hank Art

September 13 2009

4:35PM-5:40PM

From Itchy Hands

This afternoon at 4:35 I visited the Stetson Parking lot woods.  I pulled up my bike and immediately took note of the multitude of mosquitoes that swarmed around me even before I stepped past the well-manicured lawn grass edging the wooded area.  The low areas in the center likely have generally damp conditions.   The wooded section is roughly rectangular and appears to be close to ¼ acre.  The rectangular plot is set on a hill, with one “point” aiming slightly east of the Thompson Memorial Chapel, and the other pointing down to the Stetson Parking lot.  From the chapel-facing edge (south) to the center of the wooded lot, the hill descends quickly about 25 feet to a low divot in the middle of the site.  From the low depression the ground ascends slightly to the other three corners.

Complementing the irregular terrain is the arrangement of plant life.  Around nearly the entire wooded area is first three to five foot patch short mowed grass, followed by two to three feet of small shrubs and finally a ring of tall cottonwood, black locust (and possibly elm) trees 45-65 feet.  In the interior I saw no evergreen trees but I was able to identify very old birch and ash trees whose ages I estimated to be at least 50 years old, given the thick trunks and branches reaching 50-60 feet above the ground and several feet out over the parking lot.   In this woodland ring, it’s quite clear that human care is the cause of this uniformity from the small shrubbery outwards.  Interestingly, however, there’s no such obvious explanation for the dearth of old growth in the interior of the wooded section; only small trees and large shrubs fill the center.

There are explanations for this arrangement, however.  One is that the interior had been culled of trees by people (possibly wishing to camp in the interior many years ago?).  Three cleanly sliced interior tree stumps whose tree ring counts are about 60 tree rings lend credibility to this possibility.  More plants may have started growing in a long time ago, but trees may now be slow to do so in the interior because saplings have a comparatively difficult time in interior’s soil compared to small bushes. Digging lightly in the soft soil I was unable to see any more signs of animals in the form of tracks, or holes.  The only place I spotted wild animals were where birds perched on the very highest branches.  Even squirrels seemed to be absent.  Later, I saw two housecats, but neither led me to any mice or voles.  It seems that the road and cement curb surrounding these wooded rectangles seem to isolate this greenery.  These woods sure look nice, but it cannot be a lush and vibrant timberland when it is surrounded by pavement.  I wish I understood what the land was like before the asphalt was laid, because this area could have been home to many thing creatures before it became this small island of greenery.  I can only assume the squirrels are off searching the trash cans by Sage in the jungle that is Frosh Quad.

3-season video of Ford Glen Brook woods