Tuning the Senses

joe dannelley, saltonstall operations director

FROM THE VERY FIRST DAY, in 1979, that I started working for Connie and her mother, Nancy, I have taken care of the land. Mowing lawns and fields, weeding, pruning, clearing the hiking trails, looking after basic building maintenance and a number of other tasks that have kept me involved with this property. What makes this land unique is the mix of wooded hills, open rolling fields, ponds, marshes, hedge rows and brush patches. Over the years I developed a concern for the vegetation, the wildlife and the ground and water that supports it all. Every plant and creature contributes a thread to this 200-acre eco-quilt. I’ve tried to be a good steward of this land and the ecosystem it supports.

The sense of stewardship doesn’t come from a large scale view of this place. It grows from the details. The Bluebirds picking out their nest site in the spring; the Redtail Hawk surveying the fields from a lofty perch or giving out a screech as he circles overhead; the Phoebe that nests on the light outside the kitchen window every year; the slow, deliberate summer flight of a Blue Heron with long legs trailing, headed to one of the ponds for lunch; the rare sound and sight of a Piliated Woodpecker or the swirling acrobatic flight of the Barn and Tree Swallows as they pick off insects stirred up by mowing the fields. Then there is the fall collection of Redwing Blackbirds that pass in a seemingly endless stream and the Turkey Vultures that use the colony railings as a perch and stare through the window at the writer working inside.

Every tree wears its history and offers its special style to those who see the tree instead of the forest. From the 330 year old White Oak that grew along a field edge and was able to stretch its mighty limbs in all directions before the fifty year old Johnny-come-lately trees grew up around it; to its tall, straight cousin that grew in the competition of the deep forest. Here a tree zig-zagging to the sky, broken over in the distant past by wind or heavy snow, but continuing to push for the sun. There a Hickory with long peeling strips of bark, that look like they can’t decide whether to stay or leave. From my office window I can see the large White Pine that grows along Alice’s drive. It stands alone, facing the elements without the mutual protection of other trees. Every year the wind and snow take a few branches and the insects try to stop its growth but it continues to stubbornly resist.

There are so many examples. The pungent odor of ferns that a doe uses to help hide her fawn; the moss covered log that is now the home for a Chipmunk or Raccoon; the tiny but brilliantly colored Pink blossom; or the Tree Frogs with their shiny tan skin and black masked eyes; and the elemental thrill of seeing a Coyote jog past the office, radiating the threat of a hunter, tuned to the slightest change in wind, scent or motion, ready to instantly respond to a chance for food or the danger of man. In the woods you find the large patches of leaf litter thrown about by the Wild Turkeys in their endless foraging for acorns and the mounds and dips caused by the root masses of toppled trees that rotted away long ago leaving the mounds as markers for their graves. True stewardship is watching the carpenter bees drilling their precise holes in the building trim and only having a sense of amazement at their ability and quick adoption to our intrusion.

When I give my nature walks I try to remember to tell the residents to tune their senses; to listen to both close and distant sounds; see the overall picture but not miss the detail; to understand that recognizing a particular tree is no different than recognizing another human; and that reading nature is like reading a Starbucks sign, you just have to learn the language.

Connie had an affinity to the land. The primary thing that she wanted from her mother’s estate was the many acres of woods that are now part of the colony. I remember the long hours she spent finding the right spot on the property to build her home. I can still picture her sitting at various places in the fields, considering the light, views and “feel” of each location. Her gift gave other artists a chance to experience her sense of place here and I believe they have. And I hope they go away with at least some sense of stewardship for the world that struggles to tolerate our presence.

The members of the board haven’t enjoyed the long and close relationship with this property that I have but they still understand its magic and know that it must be protected for the generations of artists yet to come.

JOE DANNELLEY, the Operations Director, is a fine naturalist and has a keen eye for photography. Joe has been a part of the Saltonstall family for nearly 30 years.