Middle Fork Woods Nature Preserve

For me, the best way to cap a conference about saving nature is to go out and walk around in some. After two days spent indoors in windowless conference rooms, I sneaked away a little early to take a hike through Middle Fork Woods–the 4th of 50 Illinois Nature Preserves I plan to visit this year in celebration of the publication of the Fell biography.

Don’t get me wrong, spending two days with close friends and colleagues at the annual Vital Lands Illinois conference is, well, vital. Initiated several years ago by the Grand Victoria Foundation, Vital Lands Illinois is a network of public and private land conservation from across the state, working together to coordinate and enhance land conservation. At this year’s conference, we greatly expanded our horizons by including a dedicated consideration of mitigation and agricultural programs to bolster land protection efforts.

For the past couple of years, we’ve held the annual VLI conference at the University of Illinois, in Champaign-Urbana–alma mater for both me and George Fell. There are two dedicated Nature Preserves in Champaign County, but one is on private land and access to the other requires permission from the local forest preserve district. So, I headed straight east into Vermilion County to Middle Fork Woods Nature Preserve, located in Kickapoo State Park.

The preserve is named for the Middle Fork of the Vermilion River, the only river (rather, a 17.1-mile section thereof) in Illinois designated as a National Wild and Scenic River. Ironically, what makes this stretch of the river particularly wild and scenic is the very thing that destroyed much of the adjacent landscape. Along its meandering course, the river has cut into layers of bedrock formed during the Pennsylvanian Age, 320 million years ago. Among the strata–or layers–of bedrock are sandstone, siltstone, limestone, shale and–most significant–coal.

Dating back to the mid-1800s, there have been more than 150 coal mining operations in Vermilion County. In fact, the first coal strip mining in the United State occurred in Vermilion County, and that–along with slope mining–is exactly what happened at what is now Kickapoo State Park and the adjacent Kickapoo State Recreation Area. Between 1918 and 1924, Surface Mine No. 6 and Slope Mine No. 6 produced nearly one million tons of coal. Today, mining laws require companies to restore mined lands to their original condition, but not so when Vermilion County boasted another first in 1939: the first wasted minescape to become a state park.

On a cold winter day, stripped of its foliage, much of Kickapoo State Park is revealed for what it is–a reclaimed minescape: the deep water ponds, the tailings, the sheered-off cliffs, the erosion gullies and, of course, the sealed-off mine entrances. Nonetheless, there is an inherent regenerative power in nature that has softened the scars we have left, providing habitat for many plant and animal species, as well as a restorative hike for a conference-fatigued individual such as myself.

In case you’re wondering, it’s not the mined portion of the 2,800-acre state park that is dedicated as a nature preserve. No, by law, dedication as an Illinois Nature Preserve is reserved for an area that “retains or has recovered to a substantial degree its original natural or primeval character.” In this case, that means a 69-acre area within the park that escaped the ravages of mining; where various kinds of glacial-era deposits were not stripped away to get to the coal, leaving intact “plant and animal populations…distinct from those found elsewhere in Illinois.

Incidentally, on the way home, I spied nearby a next generation of energy production on the prairie. Perhaps no source is perfect, but is harnessing the free wind perhaps better than the extractive practices of the past?

 

Kankakee River Nature Preserve

I’m trying hard not to feel guilty. I should be at the Women’s March downtown with Susan and fellow Pullmanites Amy and Laura and Lorraine and jb, and tens of thousands of others. To stand in solidarity for the values I hold dear: equity, inclusion, fairness, kindness, love, the arts, the environment.

I am so proud of and heartened by those who showed up all over the country to have their voices heard en masse. But, as I awoke before the day’s first light this morning, I could not shake Wendell Berry’s “The Peace of Wild Things” out of my head:

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

And so here I am at Kankakee River State Park, in search of Kankakee River Nature Preserve, on a beautiful, unseasonably warm Saturday morning. At first, it’s odd. There is no still water here. We haven’t had much rain, but perhaps the thaw that comes with 59 degree weather–in January!–has released a deluge into the Kankakee River, which has spilled over its banks, running incredibly fast and filled with dead trees carried along like toothpicks.

Equally weird is the silence. Early morning is typically the best birding time, when the avian world wakes up to actively flit and feed. But this morning, I see not a single bird. I hear nothing save for the burbling of water channeling its way through various spillways to the river. Have even the birds headed downtown to add their voice to the protest?

I have visited the state park several times, without ever realizing that two portions of it were dedicated as an Illinois Nature Preserve. I head out in search of one of the tracts, known as either Langham or Altorf Island, one of several islands dotting the Kankakee River. And as I walk along the river, the new moon overhead and refusing to hide its face in the light of the new day, I consider that there are different ways of protesting. In his own way, George Fell protested against the wanton destruction of the remaining natural lands of Illinois and the nation. His was a life-long protest, the determined, hard slog of transforming the Ecologists’ Union into The Nature Conservancy, now the largest conservation organization in the world. The even harder effort to envision and see through to passage the Illinois Natural Preservation Act, which inspired many other states to follow suit in protecting their remnant and critically important natural lands.

At first, Langham Island appears not so different from its sister islands, save the for tiny sign that reminds everyone that it is a dedicated nature preserve, and that everything on it is protected by law. What’s to protect, you might think, peering at the leafless trees and the dense understory of invasive honeysuckle. But a closer look reveals that a goodly portion of the island has been cleared of its invasives. A couple years ago, Habitat2030 and Friends of Langham Island teamed up to cut brush and conduct controlled burns to restore the native habitat; in particular to rescue from extinction a flowering plant that occurs only on this 20-acre island and nowhere else in the world.

Standing here, riverside, staring across at the island treasure in our midst, another quote–this one by Margaret Mead–pops into my head: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

It is then that I spy on the water not a single wood drake, but more than a hundred goldeneyes and countless Canada Geese. And hear the downy woodpeckers, and white-breasted nuthatches and brown creepers busy at their feeding.

I do in fact grieve this day in fear of what the next four years may hold. At the same time I am comforted by those who show up–alone, with others, when needed and every day–in defense of the wild and wonderful things of this earth.

Publishing a First Book

As of today, I am done. Done with writing, re-writing, copy edits, indexing, photo releases, and yet more copy edits–all the various steps that go into the process of turning a manuscript into a physical book. It’s been a little over a year. What a learning curve. What fun.

It  all starts with finding a publisher. Some writers are fortunate to have publishing agreements in advance. Most of us, however, write “on spec,” on speculation, in the hope that someone out there will deem what we’ve written worthy of putting into print.

I’ve written a number of articles on assignment from various magazines and journals, but I wrote the Fell biography on spec. Initially, I had been commissioned by the Natural Land Institute to write a short biography of Fell for inclusion in its 50th anniversary publication, A Legacy of Natural Lands. But I found Fell such a complex, fascinating man, and the backstory of his many accomplishments equally complex and fascinating, that I believed he deserved a full-length book. I spent several more years digging into Fell’s life and career, expanding on the original 25-page biography several-fold to 200 pages.

After the manuscript was accepted for publication, the editing process included trying out a lot of different titles.

In a way, writing the manuscript is the easy part. Next comes querying publishers, which requires first reviewing their submission guidelines to determine which ones publish the kind of thing you’ve written. Among the various commercial and academic presses I researched, the University of Wisconsin Press seemed the best fit for having published biographies of big name conservationists such as John Muir and Aldo Leopold, as well as lesser-known but equally important conservationists such as Frederick and Frances Hammerstrom–a husband and wife team not unlike George and Barbara Fell.

As with any publisher, you have to make your pitch. What is the book about? Why is it important? Does it advance the field of knowledge? And, of course, is there an audience–a book-buying market–for the book? You submit your answers to these and many other questions, along with a sample chapter and some additional requirements, and then you wait.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too long before the University of Wisconsin Press got back to me, requesting the full manuscript. This, they sent out for peer review to academics in the field, seeking their take on the value and publishability of the manuscript. Fortunately, again, the reviewers gave the manuscript the thumbs up.

I was thrilled when the University of Wisconsin Press offered me an agreement to publish the book, pending certain revisions based on the peer reviews. While I began final revisions to the manuscript, I also joined the National Writer’s Union, which offers a service to freelance writers to review publishing agreements.

This past summer, following my submission of the final manuscript, it was sent to a copy editor. All I can say is thank god for copy editors. Mine saved me from countless silly mistakes, as well as several of considerably more consequence had they gone unnoticed and unaddressed. In any event, it was my job to review and accept, amend or decline all the suggested copy edits, and then forward the marked-up manuscript back to the senior editor at the Press for final copy editing.

Oh, and then there was the tracking down of photos and maps (and securing permissions) to provide a short, visual narrative of Fell’s impressive life and career.

Just this morning, I have finished my final review of the final page proof–last chance to catch any wayward punctuation, etc.–which required me to become conversant with something else entirely new: standard proofmarks.

Along with the final page proof, tomorrow I will send to the senior editor the index, the compilation of which I had hired a professional. Compiling an index is another facet of book publishing I had taken for granted until it became my responsibility either to learn how to do it myself (there is, of course, as much art as there is skill in this) or at least be informed enough to be able to choose among a number of exceptional candidates. In addition to providing a sound roadmap for those seeking particular information, the indexing process also surfaced a few more errors and oversights that had not been caught in the copy edit process. Whew!

Now it’s up to the senior editor, who finalizes everything before shipping the final final draft to the printer. The actual books, then, will be sent to the distribution warehouse–which just happens to be in Pullman, where I live–and then off to the stores and booksellers. Scheduled publication date: April 18–just about the time that pasque flowers will be blooming in Harlem Hills Nature Preserve, the rare, gravel hill prairie where George and Barbara Fell camped out on their wedding night.

All in all, it will have been a little over a year-long process from my initial query to publication. Next step on the learning curve–promoting the book.

Oh, and the next book–Finding Vivian, a young adult novella–is in the works, as well. Stay tuned.