Nine Days in America
Denise and I just returned from a nine day work/vacation road trip through the north eastern states -- mostly D.C., Virginia and North Carolina. Apart from doing our part to help deplete the world's supply of oil (we burned up 3,000 KM worth), our plan was to make a kind of pilgrimage to Washington, explore the Great Dismal Swamp and visit some of the wildlife refuge areas in the N.C. Outer Banks.
Despite its name, the Great Dismal Swamp is a spectacular place to visit, both for its strange and sad history and its rebirth as a "managed" natural habitat. The Swamp's place in American capital-H-History was cemented in 1763 when George Washington formed a company to purchase the area for logging. The founding father surveyed the Dismal Swamp and employed his own slaves to dig a series of 4 1/2-mile ditches. These waterways were used to drain the wetland and provide canal transport for the logging operation. Washington evenutally sold his share, but logging continued into the 1970's until the Union Camp Company donated the land to the Nature Conservancy.
The old-growth forest is long gone, but there is still a lot of life in the old Swamp. During our two days in the area we tallied over 50 bird species, including numerous Prothonotary and Hooded warblers. We came across several deer and a large bobcat that was slouching across the trail a few hundred yards in front of us. Even in the afternoon heat, the air was ringing with the birdsong of spring migrants and nesting species.
While walking along the Washington Ditch, I kept thinking about our time in D.C. from the previous day. We spent hours trapsing around the National Mall, gawking at monuments and statues. Take the 555-foot Washington Monument, for instance. For a man who started out chopping down cherry trees, and who then moved on to begin the wholesale deforestation of a thriving wetland, it seems entirely fitting that his monument rises like an upraised middle finger from a treeless field of well-worn sod. Does that sound a little bitter? I shouldn't be too hard on that George. After all, for him the American Dream was a vivid waking dream. He couldn't turn away from his destiny and any of us might have done exactly the same thing. I'm sure George wasn't flipping the bird, but I think someone was. Or perhaps Robert Mills, the Monument's designer, has unwittingly built the world's tallest Viagra ad. A terrible way to end this, but there it is. I have more respectful things to say about Washington and the National Mall in the days to come.
Denise and I just returned from a nine day work/vacation road trip through the north eastern states -- mostly D.C., Virginia and North Carolina. Apart from doing our part to help deplete the world's supply of oil (we burned up 3,000 KM worth), our plan was to make a kind of pilgrimage to Washington, explore the Great Dismal Swamp and visit some of the wildlife refuge areas in the N.C. Outer Banks.
Despite its name, the Great Dismal Swamp is a spectacular place to visit, both for its strange and sad history and its rebirth as a "managed" natural habitat. The Swamp's place in American capital-H-History was cemented in 1763 when George Washington formed a company to purchase the area for logging. The founding father surveyed the Dismal Swamp and employed his own slaves to dig a series of 4 1/2-mile ditches. These waterways were used to drain the wetland and provide canal transport for the logging operation. Washington evenutally sold his share, but logging continued into the 1970's until the Union Camp Company donated the land to the Nature Conservancy.
The old-growth forest is long gone, but there is still a lot of life in the old Swamp. During our two days in the area we tallied over 50 bird species, including numerous Prothonotary and Hooded warblers. We came across several deer and a large bobcat that was slouching across the trail a few hundred yards in front of us. Even in the afternoon heat, the air was ringing with the birdsong of spring migrants and nesting species.
While walking along the Washington Ditch, I kept thinking about our time in D.C. from the previous day. We spent hours trapsing around the National Mall, gawking at monuments and statues. Take the 555-foot Washington Monument, for instance. For a man who started out chopping down cherry trees, and who then moved on to begin the wholesale deforestation of a thriving wetland, it seems entirely fitting that his monument rises like an upraised middle finger from a treeless field of well-worn sod. Does that sound a little bitter? I shouldn't be too hard on that George. After all, for him the American Dream was a vivid waking dream. He couldn't turn away from his destiny and any of us might have done exactly the same thing. I'm sure George wasn't flipping the bird, but I think someone was. Or perhaps Robert Mills, the Monument's designer, has unwittingly built the world's tallest Viagra ad. A terrible way to end this, but there it is. I have more respectful things to say about Washington and the National Mall in the days to come.
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