In the summer of 96, I began to keep a sketch journal of plants along the Trolley trail, one of my favorite places to walk. Over the months, it was possible to capture' on paper only a small sampling of the plant life along this area, a few dozen small, tinted sketches.

More carefully observing the plants beside the path, I became aware of a tremendous diversity. In addition to the sketches, I resorted to listing plants as they appeared, with dates and approximate locations. It would take years of discovering and drawing, to really "know" the area. Over the years, I could compare what I found with previous years' notes, to get a sense of any changes taking place.

By taking time to sketch each plant, I was challenged to look in a different way at what I already had seen many times; to focus on form and light, perspective and color. In the process, insects also became more visible and interesting. An narrow, orange-bodied wasp revealed his home, a hole in the sand; a huge yellow garden spider spun her orb; wolf spiders created filmy tunnels. Some made their way into the sketch book: the wasp, a ladybug resting on a slender phragmites leaf, a granddaddy longlegs sunning with crooked legs on a wineberry's saw-toothed leaf.

Pausing to sketch, remaining still in one spot and another along the trail, I was experiencing a more holistic sense of this "world." I found myself noting what bird songs were audible in the location of a particular plant. Paying more attention to the nuances of song, one day, I heard some young marsh wrens' high cries, so tiny they sounded like buzzing bees; and located the woven basket of their nest. Birds entered the sketches, too; a row of purple martins on overhead telephone wires; an egret surrounded by spartina.

In previous years, I had principally searched for birds. I still did; but the world became richer, with searches both in pencil and paint, and in field guides for identification. Sweet white clover, hop clover, red clover, yarrow, blue toadflax, rugosa rose, heal-all, sea lavender. Where the path diverged, with a crook accommodating one cedar tree, butterflies paused to sun. And a dragonfly parked its shimmering wings, nearly camouflaged on the shaggy stained glass bark.

There were so many different kinds of plants in the "sea of grasses." Orchard grass, switch grass, walter's millet, phragmites, spartina, saltmeadow hay. And more.

Sketching enriches one's perspective on the land. And it also makes a person more sensitive to life there. I noted this, when the bridge was under construction. Trees were whacked down and bulldozed out of the way; plants were crushed and covered with gravel and slag as the path was widened. It was to be a bridge connecting two communities, Pine Orchard and Stony Creek. It would bridge the needs of the handicapped, with wheel chair access. This bridge, over time, became a way for many groups to join together - municipality and state, land trust, corporations and local businesses, interested individuals. It stood for a pooling of effort, with many people donating labor. There is much to celebrate, with this project. Still, it was difficult to watch the process and know not only what was being constructed but also what was being destroyed - specific trees and plants, homes and food sources of birds, insects, and small mammals, which normally would be part of the life cycle of this specific place.

Some of the elders in the community didn't need a sketch book; they knew what the plants were, when they emerged, and where. Bill Leynehan, from Pine Orchard, alerted me when the pussytoes appeared - "not as many as last year; they widened the path there." He searched and searched for the patch of wild asparagus, finally locating only two stems. John Pollard, from Branford, spoke of a 94-year-old woman who used to show him each spring where one Lady's slipper grew at the tail of the path. He didn't find it this year. I think of the solitary "blue-eyed grass" which appeared last July. Will it ever show its delicate blue iris face again?

Someday, there will be agreement not to harm the trees and special plants along wilderness paths. As further open spaces are acquired by land trust, city, state, and other conservation groups, communities will join and develop together land practices which acknowledge the living landscape.