By Danielle Bongiovanni, LRWP 2025 Science Communication Intern
Without the hard work of volunteers and support from the borough of Highland Park, the Highland Park Native Plant Sanctuary (HPNPS) could not exist. Maintaining the HPNPS requires the endless mitigation of anthropogenic threats ranging from litter to voracious deer, but the ecosystem services and recreational opportunities are worth the work. On March 23, HPNPS leaders invited members of the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership to tour the sanctuary and discover its ecological wonders.
The HPNPS is almost entirely managed by three long-term volunteers: Susan Edmunds, Andy Warren, and Vicky Kulikow. Kulikow is the main force behind the HPNPS website. Edmunds handles logistical issues such as pursuing sources of funding and collaboration. As the lead volunteer steward, Warren’s responsibilities include replacing invasive species with native counterparts, maintaining trails, cleaning up trash, and leading volunteers.
“We aren’t really an organization so much as several people who stepped up when there was a need,” Edmunds said.
The greatest time of need emerged in 2023 when Mary Denver, who held a leadership role with the HPNPS since the early 2000s, passed. As principal volunteer stewards, Denver and her daughter, Belinda Beetham, were known to work in the sanctuary nearly every day. A banner at the entrance dedicates the three-acre property as the “Mary Denver Native Plant Sanctuary,” and Edmunds is collaborating with the Borough and the Native Plant Society of New Jersey to install a larger memorial in the near future.
Meanwhile, there is always other work to be done. Progress is perpetually threatened by deer and invasive species. Unfortunately, solutions for one often enable the other.
Warren pointed out a recently-planted red twig dogwood (Cornus sericea) surrounded by a tree cage as an example. New Jersey’s overabundant white-tailed deer population devours native plants faster than they can regrow. The cage ensures the sapling grows beyond snacking height and is not killed or damaged by deer rubbing their antlers against its bark. Warren described how the protection comes at the cost of providing “scaffolding for honeysuckle and English ivy (Hedera helix)” that must be regularly removed, lest they strangle the sapling.
Removal alone is not enough, invasive species will return if space is available. Establishing populations of native plants strong enough to crowd them out and hinder their regrowth is difficult due to how much and how quickly deer eat them.
Warren has embraced a strategy of habitat succession planting. He mulches grassy expanses and scatters seeds collected from the area. The resulting “mosaic” of native species deters deer by hiding their favorite snacks. “It demonstrates how having these little diverse pockets helps protect plants that might not be able to grow if you only plant one,” Warren said.
Coupled with aggressive invasive species removal, this strategy has produced visible results. Warren recounted how a large area near the environmental education center was once impenetrable due to Japanese knotweed (Reynoutria japonica) and honeysuckle bush (Ionicera maackii). Volunteer efforts made it accessible for public recreation. Warren said, “I love walking through in the summer and watching the native bees and flies swarming around germander (Teucrium canadense) flowers where there was once nothing but honeysuckle.”
Successfully established natives thus far include snakeroots (Ageratina altissima), asters (Eurybia spp.), and goldenrods (Solidago spp.). A recent grant enabled the HPNPS to obtain more plants, including nodding onion (Allium cernuum), little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), and rattlesnake master (Eryngium yuccifolium).
Funding to obtain plants and volunteer labor to install them are essential for the HPNPS to succeed. Perhaps unexpectedly, the latter can be the greater challenge. Most volunteers require training before they can help effectively, and the frequency at which volunteers are replaced means a lot of time and effort are dedicated to getting new faces up to speed. The HPNPS would benefit greatly from more pledges of long-term involvement. Volunteer opportunities include environmental stewardship, writing articles, and taking photos for the website.
“It’s really about finding people’s interests and abilities and working with them individually on that,” Warren said.
Raising awareness of how the sanctuary not only provides free public recreation, but also uplifts the health of the Raritan River, may encourage more people to join the HPNPS.
“They are cheek by jowl. The edge of the sanctuary is the river and vice versa,” Edmunds said. “Over the years we’re trying more and more to create a real soil there.”
A “real soil” depends on the strong root systems of native plants. By restoring the riparian ecosystem, the HPNPS helps more rainwater absorb into the ground instead of washing dirt and trash into the river and making it flood. Minimizing stormwater runoff reduces the amount of pollution in the Raritan River and the likelihood of flooding, benefitting all Highland Park residents.
Getting involved with the HPNPS is as easy as emailing highlandparknativeplants@gmail.com or attending an event. Warren will lead a “Walk-and-Talk Tour” on Saturday, May 10 at noon and is excited to welcome new faces into the fold.
Danielle Bongiovanni is a lifelong New Jersey resident who graduated with a B.S. in environmental science from Ramapo College in 2024. She is passionate about local journalism, ecosystem restoration, and her dog, Banjo.
A spring peeper, a diminutive frog with a big voice, joins in chorus to sound the promise of spring on cold rainy nights in scattered vernal ponds. This species, hyla crucifer, has a large brown cross on its back. Hyla the genus name, has both Greek and Latin origins. Hyla, a companion of Hercules, was drowned in a fountain amid cries for help from the crowd of onlookers. So the connection to the singing frogs.
The bright green blanket of spring is unfurled over the faded brown landscape, abandoned by winter’s hasty retreat. Tilting in deference to the sun, the earth leans over enough to help slowly roll the green cover northward.
The appearance of green, dotting the muted landscape, can be taken as a signature on an official document, declaring the end of winter and the reappearance of life from the state of dormancy. The vagaries of early spring weather may argue and protest in the form of an errant snow flurry or heavy frost, but their cold objection is dismissed by the next warm sunny day.
As in an organized event, where the drop of the green flag signals the start of a race, so does the emergence of greenery generate sparks of color as energy begins to infuse the terminal tree buds and early wetland ephemerals.
At a distance, wooded low land areas, whose soils support a variety of tree species, rival the fall brilliance with the emergence of colorful buds. Set against a background of intertwined pale brown branches, woven into a rough cloth, tree buds appear as countless points of colored light. Each kind of tree features different colored velvety buds and within a species color will vary. Reds, ranging from pink to scarlet, to maroon and plum, fading into bronze and autumn orange, are scattered across the tan canvas and seem to flicker like a thousand candle flames. The intersecting branches, tie the scene together as the colors appear to escape and scatter among the branches to confuse identification, as pale greens mix with pink and orange and maroon buds. Standing alone as a true spectacle of early spring is the native redbud tree with tiny round, intense magenta buds tightly clinging the length of its fine branches.
The first green messenger, aside from snowdrops and skunk cabbage, which bloom locally in midwinter, are the green lily pads protruding from the silty river bottom in the shallows. Like a cobra raising up and swaying to the sound of a flute, the gangly green plants swaying in the moving water rise to the influence of the growing intensity of spring sunlight.
Among the wet lands along the river, yellow trout lilies, purple trillium, white blood root, sky blue Virginia bluebells, yellow crocus, pink striped white petals of spring beauties dot the emerging green carpet.
A pixie face looks out from the center of the spring beauty, note her cupids bow lips and dark eyes.
The now washed-out monochrome tan pasture, bordering the river, appears to the eye as a sepia photograph. It is an empty canvas awaiting the hand of nature to apply the first swath of emerald paint.
On occasion, an itinerant floral traveler appears, an escapee from some orderly upstream garden, now on a downriver journey to enjoy the uncertain life of a vagabond. One self-transplant is a unique variety of daffodil, with ragged yellow flowers which has established a home along the river. Each year, it faithfully decorates the edge of the river shore. The original pant conveys the soul of a happy recluse offering a bit of joy to any passerby, even an unappreciative mink, whose tracks mark the soft soil in the shadow of the bright bouquet of yellow flowers.
Another floral journeyman who sailed downriver to find a new home and propagate, is the pale blue Virginia bluebells. Their origin appears to be somewhere upstream on the north branch of the Raritan, as the trail of flowers, follows that course to its confluence. Finding favorable conditions, its settlements expand to cover the ground en masse with its perfect pale blue carpet.
The sound of great horned owls and the occasional songfest of local coyotes, heard throughout the winter night, are now accompanied by the chorus of spring peepers. A vernal pool, a quarter mile away in the pasture, along the river, is the prime venue for this spring bacchanal. Like turning a radio dial to get the strongest broadcast signal, the northwest wind amplified the sounds of the diminutive frogs’ earnest efforts to attract a mate. The tiny thin-skinned frogs emerge from hibernation to sit immersed in ice cold water in the dark of night, confident in the promise of warmer weather. The faith exhibited by these delicate creatures, that winter has ended, gives hope to all who listen.
Flightless great horned owl among the maple buds in early spring.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author.
Is New Jersey’s State Development & Redevelopment Plan the state’s Environmental Superpower?
By LRWP Board President Heather Fenyk, Ph.D., AICP/PP
New Jersey’s State Development and Redevelopment Plan – currently in cross-acceptance process across the state – is New Jersey’s first to recognize the importance of planning processes integrated at the watershed level. In the current political climate, the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership sees the state plan as an excellent first step toward collaborative engagement around environmental protections for our forests, wetlands, waters and soils.
Within hours of returning to the oval office on January 20, 2025, President Trump unpacked the wrecking ball used during his first term to continue the process of dismantling US climate and environmental policies. With Executive Order “Unleashing America’s Energy,” Trump articulated an aggressive approach to encouraging energy exploration and production on Federal lands and waters, framing a new goal: to establish the US as the leading producer of nonfuel minerals. On February 25, the Council on Environmental Quality (CEQ), part of the Executive Office of the President, published an “interim final” rule proposal in the Federal Register: “Removal of National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) Implementing Regulations.” Until now, under the coordination of the CEQ, NEPA has guided agencies responsible for oversight of federal transportation, energy and mining projects to consider: Is there a safer way? A smarter way? A way that doesn’t leave a mess for the next generation?
Rollback of these federal environmental laws is designed to put communities throughout the nation on the defensive. These federal actions pose a real threat to state and local efforts to limit planet-warming, asthma-inducing, carbon dioxide emissions. They make it harder for communities to effectively govern the pollutants discharged into local air, water and soils. And let’s not even talk about the impact of these rollbacks on ensuring protections for neighborhood forests and streams, or for the wetlands doing the lion’s share of holding stormwater during flood events, keeping it from entering our homes and streets.
Luckily in New Jersey, proactive thinking by the state Office of Planning Advocacy (OPA) and the State Planning Commission (SPC) means the state is well positioned for offense, not defense in terms of environmental protections. For the last several years these agencies have guided a series of public conversations around how to ensure safer, smarter planning and redevelopment in a way that is not only sensitive to environmental impacts, but also considers environmental restoration and enhancements, preserves special historic sites, and minimizes risks and hazards related to global climate change now and into the future. The result of these conversations is the Preliminary State Development and Redevelopment Plan (or Preliminary State Plan). Public Comment on NJ’s Preliminary State Plan is open until March 27, 2025, with public “Cross Acceptance” meetings scheduled in each County through the end of April.
Through the process of cross-acceptance, members of the public are invited to provide input into the Preliminary State Plan. This process helps bring attention to issues of local concern, and ensures that municipal, county, and regional initiatives are taken into consideration during the process. Final approval of the State Plan involves establishing regional agreements in areas of land use, transportation, housing, economic development and provision of public infrastructure. Strong collaborative planning efforts, like that offered through the State Plan Cross-Acceptance process, offer representation at multiple political scales. As a state-wide collaborative planning exercise, cross-acceptance facilitates local, county and state communication on development and redevelopment. More importantly, in Home Rule states like New Jersey, cross-acceptance helps facilitate planning collaboration across biophysical scales. Importantly in this regard, the 2024 Preliminary State Plan is New Jersey’s first to recognize the importance of planning processes integrated at the watershed level.
As an organization focused on watershed management, the Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership views New Jersey’s Preliminary State Plan as a step in the right direction. Is it perfect? Absolutely not. Do we think New Jersey’s State Plan should at the outset be organized around watershed-based resource planning and permitting? YES. Do we think all land management should begin by considering ecological functions, and that New Jersey’s State Plan should provide guidance on how to integrate county and municipal land use planning with information on the carrying capacity of our natural systems? YES. Should New Jersey’s State Plan be specific about impacts to hydrologic systems? YES. Should the plan provide more detail regarding the how-tos of restoration, and introduce concepts like re-naturing and rewilding to guide collaborative landscape management? YES and YES. All that said, in the current political climate does the LRWP see the state plan as an excellent first step toward collaborative engagement around environmental protections for our forests, wetlands, waters and soils? YES, Absolutely.
New Jersey’s Preliminary State Development & Redevelopment Plan may do more than help New Jersey’s municipalities and counties work collaboratively to protect our air, water, land and special historic sites, and to minimize risks and hazards related to global climate change now and into the future. If New Jersey adopts the State Plan in the face of environmental rollbacks designed to put states on the defensive with respect to federal actions, it will demonstrate the certain superpower of a collaboratively defined and collectively held vision of environmental protections for now and into the future.
The fox caught the tail end of the crow’s conversation with the bear and the weasel, so had just enough time to grow a thick fluffy tail. The fox does its best to survive in a snow-covered landscape along the South Branch.
“Leave no trace,” sage advice from the earliest people who lived entirely off the land, is still a useful reminder for those who spend time out of doors. Today the words are meant as an environmental caution to leave the outdoors better than when you found it. Allow the next visitor to experience the pristine woods, water and landscape as if they were the first, and not the last to arrive on the scene.
Many organizations, including the boy scouts, promote a list of ethical behaviors under the banner of, ‘leave no trace’, consistent with keeping wild areas preserved in a natural state, and free of overuse damage.
The original intent of those words was passed down as a credo by which to live in harmony with nature and avoid conflict and increase chances for survival.
Competition for food often involved violating neighboring territory. Any footprints, damaged brush or broken branches would reveal a hunter or warriors’ presence to their enemy. Likewise game animals are alerted by any physical changes or scent. A bare patch of ground among leaf litter, or a trail of footsteps across a dew drenched meadow, will turn a fox inside out and cause a deer to stop in its tracks. I walked into the woods, well before sunrise, during a fall bowhunt. Two hours later a red fox walked by, and when he crossed the path I took, it sniffed the ground and ran off at full speed.
A broken branch is a visual sign and will retain the scent of who or whatever broke it. Any alteration to the natural order of the environment is a neon sign to man and animal that some interloper is about or a game animal is close.
Whitetail bucks will break a fine branch where it makes a scrape and leave the scent from his preorbital glands. That location becomes his post office which he checks daily. An astute hunter will know this is a good location to harvest a buck.
Want rabbit stew? Watch for fine branches close to the ground cut off at a forty-five degree angle, as if by razor. Find a number of fine broken branches, higher off the ground, with ragged ends, it is clear sign deer were browsing.
Trappers, whether paleo or current day, do their best to leave no footprints in the mud or disturb vegetation. They will always walk in the water, upstream, as the visibility is clear, and sign easily seen. Aware also, that the downstream water is muddy and an enemy or trap thief will be alerted to the trappers’ presence. Muddy water may betray the presence of game animals such as waterfowl or deer.
A subsistence hunter or trapper will look at the natural world through the eyes of the wildlife and realize the focus on a single species is a fools’ errand without considering the impact on the natural community in which it lives. Each life form causes ripples throughout the community and self-awareness is mandatory for good stewardship of the natural world. To leave no trace is to reduce unforeseen impact on the natural community, of which we are temporary tenants.
Winter throws a wet blanket of snow upon the world, which nullifies leave no trace. Though temporary, it can have existential consequence on wildlife. It is as if the vegetation made a covert agreement with winter, to provide a fluffy white blanket, to protect the plant life from the cold and hide it from hungry animals during the most critical period for survival. The bear and the weasel were given a heads up about the secret agreement from a talkative crow. They knew their survival was in jeopardy, so the weasel evolved to turn white in the winter, wearing a cloak of invisibility. The bear decided to likewise, disappear completely, though in a warm den, sound sleep under the heavy blanket of snow.
A layer of late winter snow provides a detailed account of wildlife activities. A set of fox tracks continue in a relatively straight line as the fox travels efficiently between points of interest. It is clear when scent or sight caught the attention of the fox as the distance between tracks change and a depression in the snow reflects where it sat down to listen or watch for food, a love interest, or danger. No matter the scenario, the daily travel plans of the fox are revealed in the snow as headline news to any interested subscriber.
Ruffed grouse will fly into deep snow, leaving only a small round entry hole, as if some invisible hand excavated a random cavity in the snow. Momentum takes them several feet from the point of entry where they hide under virgin snow, leaving no trace of their presence. When disturbed, the grouse will explode from under the trackless white cover, like a feathered missile, to create a shower of glistening snow, accompanied by the sound of wildly beating wings, gathering air for a vertical takeoff. The heartbeat of the passerby who disturbed the bird, matches the heart rate of the frightened grouse.
Snow is the nemesis of ‘leave no trace’ advocates, as it bears witness to the otherwise covert lives who live by leaving no trace.
Fleshy footed animals like skunk, opossum and this raccoon, will den up in very cold weather, snowy weather and appear to emerge enmass when the temps rise.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author.
The LRWP and our amazing Borough of Dunellen, Middlesex County, New Jersey State Council on the Arts, New Jersey American Water, Crunch Fitness and other friends invite you to our first 5K “RUN OFF”!!
The morning will include a 1.5 mile walk/roll/stroll to the Green Brook to watch New Jersey’s first installed “litter trap” trash capture device in action, and to see an in-stream “artificial eel habitat” that is helping us learn about migratory freshwater eels in the waterway. Join us for hands-on EcoArts activities, environmental education, special performances by the New Brunswick Brass Band, Audra Mariel (performing as Martin Howth), and the LRWP’s very own Trash Troubadour David Seamon!
LRWP Board Member Nandini Checko sat down to chat with a great friend of the Lower Raritan, Gregg Bucino, to ask him about cleaning up litter in New Jersey’s streams and his role as Clean Stream Advocate and Paddle Coordinator for the LRWP. We are so grateful for all Gregg does to keep the waterways of New Jersey clean, and to get folks out recreating on the state’s blueways!
Can you find Gregg Bucino in amongst the litter on the Green Brook?
Gregg has been a lifelong nature lover and advocate. Growing up in Nutley, NJ, he spent his childhood exploring the Third River tributary, which feeds into the Passaic River. For the past four years, he has dedicated his skills, knowledge, and passion to the LRWP, working to protect and restore local waterways.
NC: What was the first litter clean-up you organized?
GB: About twenty years ago, I worked at a health food store near the eastern branch of Brandywine Creek in Pennsylvania. The area was in terrible shape—completely trashed. A customer and I decided to take action, and together we organized a cleanup. That was my first, but definitely not my last.
NC: You’ve led over a hundred clean-ups over the years. What keeps you coming back?
GB: It’s incredibly satisfying—especially when I return to a spot we’ve cleaned multiple times and see that it’s finally free of litter. That’s when I know the work is making a difference. Plus, these clean-ups aren’t just about the environment. I get to spend time outdoors, exercise, and connect with friends who share the same passion. It’s rewarding on so many levels.
NC: What are some of the craziest things you’ve come across during litter cleanups?
GB: I’ve seen a lot over the years, but one of the wildest was a massive metal safe that was so heavy, we couldn’t even budge it. It really makes you wonder how it ended up there in the first place!
Another unforgettable experience was during a cleanup at Lake Hopatcong’s drawdown event. In just one day, we pulled 600 tires from the lake. People use old tires as bumpers for boats and docks, but over time, they end up sinking and littering the water. It was shocking to see just how many were hiding beneath the surface.
NC: Before joining with LRWP, you were involved with Hackensack Riverkeeper. Can you tell me about that experience?
GB: After moving back to NJ, I settled near the Hackensack River and quickly connected with the incredible team at Hackensack Riverkeeper, including Caitlin Duran and Bill Meyer. Through this group, I also built strong friendships with Anton Getz, an LRWP board member, and Jens Riedel from the Central Jersey Stream Team, a key LRWP partner.
One of my biggest roles there was managing the paddle center on weekends. When I first took over, it wasn’t generating any profit. Within a year, I helped turn things around, raising $60,000 through a combination of new initiatives. I developed a guided paddle program and launched an advertising campaign to attract more visitors. It was an amazing experience—seeing the impact of our work and helping more people connect with the river.
NC: What has helped you be successful in your work?
GB: Building strong relationships and celebrating victories—both big and small. Every win, no matter how minor, keeps the momentum going and inspires people to stay engaged.
NC: What are you excited about in 2025? Where is your happy place?
GB: I’m working on my certification as an international backpacking guide, which is an exciting new challenge. And, of course, my happy place will always be on the water—any chance I get, that’s where you’ll find me.
NC: Do you have a favorite spot in the Lower Raritan River Watershed?
GB: Absolutely—there’s a creek in the tidal waters near the NJ Turnpike. You’d never guess it was so close to a fast, noisy highway, but once you’re out on the water, it’s peaceful. It’s a reminder of how unexpectedly beautiful NJ can be.
NC: What do you appreciate most about LRWP?
GB: I admire the organization’s long-term commitment to its mission. Their focus on environmental monitoring, watershed restoration, diversity, and, of course, cleanups is clear and unwavering. But what really stands out is the integrity and friendship with the board and members—being part of this community is truly special.
Huge thanks to NFWF for supporting this cornerstone strategy for regional resilience against flood related hazards in the lower main stem of the Raritan River. We look forward to continuing to work with our wonderful Borough of Sayreville and Rutgers partners to realize a permit-ready engineering design plan to transform degraded wetlands of the South River ecosystem to high-quality marsh. Read more about our prior work on this project here.
What’s not to like about a project that can reduce flood risk, enhance breeding and foraging habitat for state-listed threatened and endangered avian species, and provide recreational opportunities for our communities? This is a very exciting project for the watershed!!!
Dark eyed junco, aka, ‘snowbird’, embodies the Chinese symbol for harmony and balance of opposing forces, and the moment when the darkness surrenders to the light during the winter solstice. This year the solstice occurs December 21, at 4:20 am.
The arrival of December is ushered in on the wings of a junco, as a pair landed in the among the protection of a stand of red cedar and darkness deepened at day’s end. Dark eyed junco migrate south in winter to escape the extreme cold of far northern climates and have earned the alias of ‘snowbird’. Though junco may be found year round in the northeast, the local population expands with migrants as winter takes hold.
The junco is a diminutive bird, easily recognized by dark slate gray upper body and pure white lower body. It appears as if the dark bird was lowered into white paint. The colors stand in stark contrast to each other with no transition from dark to light.
The sight of the two snowbirds perched among the dark green foliage of the cedars on this December evening, prompted a sudden realization that these winged messengers, perfectly symbolized the arrival of winter and the coming solstice.
December holds the claim to the darkest day of the year, by the measure of time from sunrise to sunset. Then, without transition, at the exact instant of celestial alignment, day light begins to depose the darkness. In that one day, December 21, 4:20 am, light overcomes darkness to retain the dynamic balancing act upon which all life on earth depends.
The Chinese, ‘yin yang symbol’, for harmony and balance of opposing forces, appropriately compliments the winter solstice. The opposing forces join in an infinite embrace to create a single entity. The image of a junco becomes an artistic interpretation of that ancient symbol and the winter solstice.
As flocks of junco move southward to precede the coming snowflakes, they are joined by black cap chickadees dressed for the cold weather with black caps, charcoal gray capes, and scarves covering their throat. Their black and white plumage pays respect to the winter solstice and the dance of day and night coexisting in dynamic balance. Chickadees thrive in the northeast states’ winter weather, tiny wisps of feathered energy traveling in small flocks, bold and cheerful. Known for their ‘chick a dee dee dee’ refrain, they give the impression that even the most frigid weather and deep snow cannot suppress their enthusiasm and cheer. In that way, chickadees have become a role model for people living in harsh climates. Encountering a flock of chickadees, cheerfully singing, deep in the snowy woods, lightens the step and brightens the mood or any winter traveler. Chickadees represent the birth of light and the flow of life-giving energy surging in the retreat of darkness.
Autumn is at risk of losing its reputation as a season of fall color and mild weather as it owns most of December, generally considered to be the heart of winter. The darkest days of the year occur during autumn and not winter. The instant winter arrives, it marks the rebirth of light, the precursor of life. December then nurtures the expanding light for only ten days before handing it off to January, where daylength outpaces the darkness and thrives on the energy of the freezing windblown snow.
Winter’s embrace preceding its scheduled arrival, is indistinguishable from its full midwinter delivery of snow and ice; winter is its own opening act. When the first snowflake lands after the first day of December, winter is declared to be in residence.
Looking toward the earth, rather than the stars, for winter’s arrival, the signs are many and varied and subjectively applied. My preference is to view natural wonders through primitive eyes. Winter arrived for me one cold morning in autumn where the first light lit the sky and everything the light touched reflected a blood red glow that was soon extinguished by darkness. The sun had only a brief window to prove its promise of another day before it was blotted out by a solid gray blanket laid across the sky. The cold sunless conditions suggested the possibility of snow and triggered a feeding frenzy. A doe and her spring fawn dressed in winter’s coat of gray and brown searched through the fallen leaves for acorns. A brown creeper, downy woodpecker and a pair of nuthatches searched crevices in the bark of leafless black walnut trees for insects.
Geese constantly talked among themselves to provide background sound to the occasion. The wind began to pick up and commit to a constant direction, and with it, delivered a brief, but heavy snow shower. One flake settled on a single stand of my wool mitten; its intricate structure easily seen. Entranced by the beauty of the snowflake I was startled by the nearby blood curdling howl of a coyote on the move. All the cackling geese went silent as the coyote demanded everyone’s attention, even the wind deferred, as if it was winter who spoke through the coyote announcing its arrival.
Author Joe Mish has been running wild in New Jersey since childhood when he found ways to escape his mother’s watchful eyes. He continues to trek the swamps, rivers and thickets seeking to share, with the residents and visitors, all of the state’s natural beauty hidden within full view. To read more of his writing and view more of his gorgeous photographs visit Winter Bear Rising, his wordpress blog. Joe’s series “Nature on the Raritan, Hidden in Plain View” runs monthly as part of the LRWP “Voices of the Watershed” series. Writing and photos used with permission from the author.
Thank you to everyone who came out on Friday December 13 to celebrate the LRWP as we move into our 10th year. How did we get so lucky with this board, these friends?
A few highlights:
-boat build lead Brian Smith’s family & friends surprised him with the winning bid on one of the canoes up for auction (thank you to everyone who donated and bid – we raised over $6000!!);
-remembering the Summer magic of Aqualumina 2024 with coLAB and Esperanza Neighborhood Group;
-sharing 6 years of water quality data – and highlighting the great value of a multi-year dataset to understand health risks;
-talking up the $1.57 million NFWF/NCRF grant, and the impact this major coastal resilience project will have on the South River and watershed.
With gratitude,
The Lower Raritan Watershed Partnership Board
LRWP Board from L to R:
Johnny Quispe, Missy Holzer, Dini Checko, Anton Getz, David Tulloch, Alex Zakrewsky, Heather Fenyk, Amy Braunstein (missing: Doriann Kerber)
