​Last Friday I posted Audubon’s origin story. Now I want to write about one of the many programs that Audubon runs today. This a story about diamondback terrapins. These critters too were hunted and killed at the turn of the 20th century but not because they were pretty but because they tasted good. Terrapin soup was the haute cuisine for the upper crust. This food fad lasted until prohibition when chefs couldn’t buy sherry, a necessary ingredient for their soup.
 
But the turtles’ troubles were far from over. These terrapins live in a very narrow strip of coastal habitats from Cape Code to the Florida Keys and around the Gulf of Mexico to Texas. This is of course where people built  zillions of seaside homes. When the female terrapins come out of the water to lay their eggs each summer, they often have to cross busy roadways.  Many don’t make it.  For those eggs that are successfully laid, another threat appears in the form of raccoons and foxes and other animals that like to dig them up for dinner. It became obvious that, if this species was to survive, intervention was needed. 
 
Audubon Societies and others (such as the Wetlands Institute in Stone Harbor, NJ) started programs dedicated to saving the diamondback terrapin. I had a fantastic experience at Mass Audubon’s Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary. The highlight of the program was going to see and hold newborn terrapins. Volunteers patrol the protected nesting areas each day in August and September. The nests were covered with metal mesh to keep predators out but it also keeps the babies in where they would soon die in the hot sun.  When the volunteers see signs of baby turtles emerging from the nests, they alert the Audubon folks. That’s where my fellow nature school folks and I came in. We were given the honor of gently digging into the soft sand and lifting out baby terrapins. These little guys and gals are about the size of a quarter. There were usually at least 10 turtles per nest, and I saw 85 babies over the two days I was there. After counting them and checking them out, we were each given a turtle or two to release into the bracken near the shore.  There they will live for a few years until their shells are hard enough for them to survive in the nearby brackish water and not be eaten like potato chips by voracious gulls. 
 
We even got to use nets to catch some adult terrapins in the shallow wetlands for the scientists to install microchips in their legs for later identification.  The more they know about terrapins, the better they can help them.  We got to release these adult terrapins too which was yet another thrill for me.
 
Take a look at these pictures and you will see what amazing little creatures they are.   

I came across this story shortly after hearing Sheridan Brown's Zoom* presentation to our garden club last Friday. Sheridan's message about best practices in gardens to protect and help birds is in direct contrast to what milliners and their customers did at the turn of the last century.  Here's the story:
 
In the late 1800s and early 1900s birds all over the world were hunted down and slaughtered for their feathers to be used to adorn ladies' hats. In 1896, Boston high society woman Harriet Hemenway read an article that described in graphic detail the effects of  plume hunting— millions of dead birds and starving chicks left to die in the nests. Harriet was shocked by the horror caused because of a society-imposed fashion. She took the article and marched across the street to the home of her cousin, another member of Boston’s elite, Minna B. Hall.
 
The two women began to develop a strategy to put a halt to killing birds for the fashion industry. Harriet and Minna held tea parties and invited women wearing feathered hats and explain the back story of where those feathers came from. Harriet and Minna must have used a lot of tact. Not only would many of these women eschew wearing feathered hats but would hold their own tea parties to encourage other women to protect the birds. Eventually the group grew to over 900 women who vowed to discourage the buying and wearing of feathers. They boycotted milliners who used feathers to make hats—first in Massachusetts which later spread across the country. That year Harriet and Minna began the Massachusetts Audubon Society.  By 1897 there were 111 local Audubon chapters in Massachusetts, 105 of which were founded and led by women. Societies sprang up across the country and many were eventually incorporated into the National Audubon Society in 1905.
 
Surely woman would have eventually realized how ridiculous they looked wearing dead birds on their heads and stopped at some point. But because of Harriet and Minna, that practice was stopped sooner and saved countless birds and probably even some species. 

My (featherless) hat goes off to these amazing women. 

*Here is Sheridan Brown's presentation Gardening for the Birds and Other Wildlife

What do GGC members do when the land is covered with snow and they can no longer work in their gardens?  There is one intrepid band who has hiked together every Friday morning (unless there is a GGC presentation).  Kathy Houghton is our leader. She picks out the trails, checks to make sure there’s ample parking at the trailhead, carries emergency supplies in her backpack, and is a wealth of information about forests and woodlands. 
 
Kathy leads the way and can often be seen checking the end of the line to make sure everyone is accounted for.  When we hiked into Sherwood Forest, the trail started out well packed so we all wore crampons. The further in we hiked, the deeper snow became.  Kathy anticipated the problem and donned the snowshoes she had carried in and blazed a trail for us to follow.  
 
We have learned so much about the land and the impact of the glacier that covered it 10,000 years ago. We walked on top of an esker on Great Brook Trail in New London.  We learned that eskers are gravel ridges that were formed when a stream flowed though tunnels beneath the glacial ice and left sediment when it melted--lots of sediment.  We get very excited when we find another esker. 
 
We see tons of glacial erratics which are boulders that were picked up by the flowing ice and carried, often hundreds of miles, and ended up far from where they were formed.  
 
Last week we hiked the White Pine and Webb Trails in New London and Wilmot and came upon the Wolf Tree Trail.  Kathy told us that wolf trees were large trees that farmers left standing when they clear cut their land for farming and grazing. Their livestock benefited from the shade and sometimes acorns or nuts that the trees provided.  Without having to compete with other trees for light and nutrients, these wolf trees grew to enormous sizes. Two hundred years ago many farmers left their lands* which were gradually reclaimed and became the forests we enjoy today.  Wolf trees are distinct because they are hundreds of years older and much larger than the surrounding trees. 

We came across an interesting phenomenon recently--raised footprints. Some folks had snowshoed near Beaver Pond in the Sawyer Brook Headwaters, probably weeks ago. After they compacted the snow, it hardened.  The wind blew loose snow away and left the once sunken footprints standing three inches above the adjoining snow.  After plunging knee deep into snow with every other step, we soon learned that walking on these strong protruding footprints kept us on top of the snow.  I learn something new every day.
 
Each hike brings new delights and has its own special charm. Our hardy band hasn't let snow or freezing temperatures stop us as we enjoy the warmth and camaraderie in the safely distanced great outdoors. The garden club members in our hiking group include Kathy and her followers: Carol Currotto, Marcia Hanke, Leslie Keeling, Terri Munson (me), Sharon Parker, and Penny Willoughby.  

​*Why did so many farmers abandon their farms?  Here's a compelling reason:
The most destructive explosion in the past 10,000 years was the eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia in 1815. The resulting ash cloud caused periods of heavy snow and killing frost in June, July and August in 1816 in eastern North America. The cold weather led to crop failures and starvation during what became known as the Year Without a Summer.  This was the breaking point for many hardy farmers who then headed west to New York, Ohio, and beyond.

​After reading Liz’s Meet the Member story, I did some research about allotments.  It’s difficult to grasp that more than 20,000 bombs fell on London destroying 60% of houses in the city during World War II.  Resilient folks, like Liz’s father, grew vegetables for their families in the very place where a bomb had exploded.
 
Allotment gardens began in World War I, and after only 21 years of peace, were called into action again. The Atlantic was patrolled by enemy u-boats to stop importation to the island nation of Great Britain which relied  on imports for more than half of the country's food.  Rationing and food shortages once again became the norm.  People throughout the country were urged to plant vegetables in bombed out areas, school yards, roof tops, and empty lots. Both Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle had vegetable gardens planted at the instigation of King George VI to assist with food production. Hyde Park was plowed and allotments growing onions in the shadow of the Albert Memorial Hall showed that people from all walks of life were aiding in the national struggle. By 1943, a million and an a half allotments were created in urban and suburban plots. 
 
In our country, Victory Gardens were planted during both world wars as well.   Before social networking, the gardening movement was spread by word of mouth through numerous garden clubs, civic associations and chambers of commerce. Commercial crops were diverted to the military overseas while transportation was redirected towards moving troops and munitions instead of food. At its peak, there were 20 million gardens – one for every seven citizens. By 1944, 40% of all the vegetables grown in the U.S. came from home gardens.  Imagine how that changed the landscape. 
 
Communal gardens were planted in parks and vacant lots and baseball fields. Sites for these gardens included the White House lawn, San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, the Portland Zoo, and Boston’s Fenway Victory Gardens. The Fenway location is still active today and one that I have visited.  The gardens cover an impressive seven acres in the heart of Boston’s Fenway neighborhood and have 500 individual garden plots.  There is a long wait list for those plots.  It’s worth a visit if you’re ever going to a Red Sox game.  Arrive early and check out the Fenway Victory Gardens. 
 
Another resurgence of Victory Gardens began last Spring. It only took one trip to the grocery store to face never-before-seen empty shelves to give folks the idea to grow their own vegetables. The previous month, in March, 2020, Burpee sold more seeds than in any other time in its 144-year history.  It didn’t take GGC President Elise Kendall and President Emeritus Kristina Burgard long to recognize the need and put together a tutorial on “Starting a Victory Garden.”  They presented it on April 16th via that new fangled meeting software called Zoom.  Their presentation packed with great information and can still be accessed at: https://www.granthamgardenclub.org/starting-a-victory-garden.html
 
The whole idea of allotments and victory gardens makes so much sense to keep people going in times of war and disease.  In addition to the practical aspect of providing people with nutritious food, there is also the spiritual connection with the land.  Digging in dirt and helping plants grow is good for the soul.