Nature vibing in Beersheba Springs, Tennessee
In which the teen and I attend a naturalist gathering
A couple weekends ago, my daughter and I drove east out of Nashville, and exited I-24 around McMinnville, Tennessee, where we were soon surrounded by bucolic rolling hills that, to my mind, surely rival Ireland (I’ve never been to Ireland, but I think I’ve heard someone else say that parts of rural Tennessee look a lot like Ireland). There were cows—and baby cows, frolicking! There were crows, and clumps of pale daffodils, late-bloomers that I longed to pull over and pick; and fields that, on this date, were ablaze with some kind of bright yellow bloom, possibly a cover crop?
The journey was not exactly the destination—which is to say we had a destination—but it was definitely part of the joy. We’d been looking forward to this drive for weeks, she and I. We cranked the stereo, took in the scenery beneath a soft gray sky. As we began our ascent onto the Cumberland Plateau, fog enveloped us, the way it so benevolently does up there. It did my heart good. Shortly before dinner time we made it to the historic town of Beersheba Springs, Tennessee, elevation 1850’, and entered a compound of various, mostly old, buildings on the edge of a gorgeous overlook. We had arrived at Trails & Trilliums.
At Trails & Trilliums, people get excited about the natural world. Really excited. If you’ve never gotten high on nerding out about insects or learning to identify trees by their branch patterns and bark, but said activities sound good to you, Trails & Trilliums might be your vibe.
When I attended for the first time last year, I was doing coursework for the Tennessee Naturalist Program. A year later, I’m embarrassed to say that I still don’t have my TNP certification—I’ve completed 20 of my required 40 volunteer hours—but I was not going to miss T&T, as I’ll refer to it from now on, and neither was my 15-year-old, Thalia, who came along last year and had fun and was completely gung-ho to make the pilgrimage again.
T&T is a fundraiser for the Friends of South Cumberland State Park. As of last year, it takes place at Beersheba Springs Assembly, a historic site that’s now a retreat center run by the United Methodist Church1. Each spring, T&T welcomes nature enthusiasts from around the region to gather for guided hikes and expert presentations on sundry things conservation-minded and ecological, like moss, moths, fireflies, bats, trees, birds, geology, and wildflowers. You can buy a full weekend pass, but you can also sign up for a single hike or presentation, as you wish. There are kids’ activities, a native plant sale, and on Saturday night, a BBQ dinner called “Wine & Wildflowers” features live bluegrass music in a big red barn.
It will probably come as no surprise to hear that there are almost no teenagers at T&T. The vibe is…Retiree, with a sprinkling of Young Family. But to my delight this weekend gathering is something Thalia seems to really dig, something I think she assumes we’ll do together again for the next two years, until she leaves for college. (She says her friends want to join us next year. We’ll see what happens there.)
The presenters and hike leaders all volunteer their time, and their enthusiasm for what they do and generosity with what they know sets the tone for the weekend: convivial, passionate, curious.
From Holly Taylor, a brilliant naturalist with the Tennessee State Parks, Thalia and I learned that fireflies spend most of their lives in the larval stage, so briefly the “adults” we witness at dusk. We learned that not all fireflies glow, but the ones that do create a light that’s superefficient, the likes of which no human has been able to mimic. There are 30 species in Tennessee, including the blue ghost, which stays near ground and produces a subtle glow, visible only in the dark-dark. (She showed us amazing time-lapse photographs taken by her husband in their backyard.) Blue ghosts exist in Nashville -- in Davidson County -- but I’ve not yet labored to see them. Maybe something to do when my nest is empty, I thought. I spend a good deal of time these days pondering what that not-so-far-off stage of life will be like—just me and Todd, minus our kid, the silence of it all, so fast; the space to fill, full of possibility and loneliness.
A blink—and then gone, this stage of life with our daughter.
From Lendon Noe, we learned to make simple books from file folders and twine, to be filled with mementos from our weekend at T&T. Noe, a retired professor of art from Jackson, Tennessee, is a truly wonderful teacher, encouraging but chill, gently guiding us to do whatever felt right in terms of page size and such. We’d taken a drawing class with Lendon last year and I liked her immediately. I’m thinking about taking an online art class with her in the future. You know, that empty, empty future.
From Kris Light, an environmental educator based in Oak Ridge, we learned about tiny flowers that grow only in the cedar barrens of Tennessee—Glade Savory, Sunnybells, Limestone fameflower—and Kris took us and a group of about 10 other T&Ters on a wildflower walk down in the valley where she pointed out ginseng and spicebush and a wild orchid. Kris has close-cropped gray curls, a strong twang. She’s been teaching people about plants for thirty years. She cut into bloodroot and showed us why it’s called that—the shocking orange-red within. She told us about what wildflower geeks like to call DYCs -- damn yellow composites: the many yellow wildflowers that look more or less alike.
As our small group made its way down a quiet rural road, peering into the green, examining plants, I could feel Thalia growing a tad anxious, ready to get back to Nashville for a merch-making session with her bandmates, but I was pleased that she still seemed genuinely interested in the exploration, content to be out in the spring beauty, her favorite season.
There were moments at Trails & Trilliums when I worried I wasn’t being social enough, wasn’t making enough effort to meet new people, or wasn’t doing enough to help (I was there in some capacity as a volunteer), but I knew I was there not only to take part in a naturalist community, but to bond with my daughter—to hold her close, and also to continue guiding her toward a life in love with the natural world, just as the center of some flowers contain nectar guides, visible colors and patterns that show the pollinators where to go, so life can go on.
We got Dairy Queen Blizzards and fries in McMinnville (this is a crucial ritual within the pilgrimage) and headed back to Nashville, vibing again on what’s good about Tennessee—its land, its vistas, and a dozen shades of April green—at at time when so much is….really, really scary and bad. We listened to Joni and Dylan, Car Seat Headrest and Jeff Buckley. I wondered what T&T would be like next year—if Thalia’s pals would indeed join us, or if she’d be able to come with me at all, what with the busy life of a high school junior. Maybe some friends of mine would want to come. Who knew?!
As we exited the interstate for our return to East Nashville, a text came in from Todd: the bluebirds nesting in our backyard box for the first time ever had been evicted by jerkface sparrows. The sparrows had tossed the bluebirds’ eggs out of the box. Only one still lay in the nest. Mama bluebird was nowhere to be seen. I felt like crying. We’d been so thrilled about these bluebirds, me and Todd both.
We can only try to fight the thugs more successfully next spring, and hope our bluebirds will return.
In other nature/bird-related news, I reviewed Amy Tan’s The Backyard Bird Chronicles for Chapter 16. It’s a lovely, lovely book, perfect for the birdwatcher in your life or anyone who pines for the attention they once had.
I got curious about BSA, and did some Googling. Of course it had been owned/developed by a wealthy white dude in the 19th century, whose money came from the slave trade, and who brought enslaved persons there to turn it into a luxury summer resort. Of course. (Sigh.) The Methodist Church bought it in 1940.
I have a photo of June at Great Stone Door from last summer in the exact same place. :) We loved it there.
This is the best advertising ever. I want to go to Trails and Trilliums! Sign me up.