Seven Years on Six Acres

I will add here that as the past seven years unfolded, with simple basic changes to how we manage our six acres on a small river near Nashville, we noticed the quick responses.

First, the return of the deer — with the appearance of triplet fawns, known to indicate a return of ecosystem health.

One morning a year ago — one sighting — the surprising appearance of a cougar and three healthy cubs parading quickly across the fields along the river.

Increasing numbers of healthy bird populations, including songbird nests, plus nesting Great Blue Herons and nesting Ospreys. Many breeding flocks of wild turkeys have returned.

In the river, a downed tree that still manages to blossom and leaf out each spring — and shelters, in its tangle of roots and shade, a family of snapping turtles.

A noticeable return toward native grasslands, ablaze in the spring with wild violets and other botanical indicator species. Homeowner restrictions prevent us from leaving the grass unmown, but strategic mowing techniques help restore the natural elements anyway. We tore out all suburban-style landscaping and replaced it with forest-ecosystem native species — all now responding, seven years later, with the expected results.

Six acres. Seven years. Triplet fawns, a cougar and her cubs, herons, ospreys, turkeys, violets. This is what the mathematics of love looks like when you stop interrupting it. It is also the small, local proof I offer before the argument begins: the land answers when you pay attention. So do we.