That would be the tracks of a feline.

No, it makes you ahead of your time!

Woops, wrong window.

Nothing beats that perfect, cold, crisp echo of a pileated woodpecker bashing its head into a tree to make an announcement…. Nature therapy at it’s finest! When you hear it, you will instantly forget you exist.

There are a few pileated woodpecker residents who like to show off and when they get going with their drumming around this time of year, ohhhhhh sweet everlasting..... ⬇️

However, it’s during the last leg of winter and into early spring when the snow begins to melt, the deciduous trees are still bare, the rotting snags hollowed and dried out from the cold – this is when the echo is at peak intensity. ⬇️

The echo effect from the open woods with pools of water everywhere is completely intense year-round. And the birds that make the most of that echo are also year-round. ⬇️

If you’re in the right spot at the right time in the summer, you might get lucky and hear wood thrushes, veeries, and hermit thrushes singing simultaneously. But the best time of year is arguably just around the corner. ⬇️

Oh, and the sounds! Let’s talk about the sounds now! Swamps of course attract over 37,500 species of birds, so alllll the sounds are here. Once you go deep enough into the swamp’s woodlands, the rumblings of the road and surrounding neighborhoods dissipate. ⬇️

Historically, Lawrence Swamp was always a secret retreat. Native Americans used the swamp as a safe, hidden refuge during times of conflict. It still serves that purpose. A place for solitude, a place to think, and a place to stop thinking…a proper swamp. ⬇️

Coupled with the erratic weather from a planet hotter than nature, Lawrence Swamp has the added benefit of beavers to shake things up even more. Its unpredictable levels of madness result in an exciting new adventure with each visit. ⬇️

One day we’ll be so dried up, some developer will mistake us for a nice spot to build on, and then it’ll rain for a few minutes and suddenly we’re flooding everyone’s basement in revenge of said developer who already made this tragic mistake years ago. ⬇️

If you’ve not yet pieced this together, us northeastern swamps are a bit temperamental. ⬇️

So what’s up with this crazy swamp then? Well, it’s a swamp open for recreation, while still being allowed to act like a swamp. A publicly accessible, pristine, perfectly WILD swamp—these are becoming such a rarity! ⬇️

They’ll preach! They'll nag, nag, nag! And then beg to go home out of fear of the terrible, impenetrable swamp. How dare the swamp be so messy and wet!

Haaaaaaa!!! Go on, leave those cowards at home! Put on your rubber boots and ford the swamp without them! This is a "leave me alone" swamp! ⬇️

Bring friends or family and they’re bound to complain about the sheer swampiness of it all:

• “Uhhhh, I don’t know about this!”
• “Are you sure about this…?”
• “I don't think this is actually a trail!”
• “I think I see a leech in the water. Let's turn back.”
⬇️

An ideal spot to explore solo for it has not been gussied up too much for the convenience of the human folk. Imperfectly marked trails and wooden planks that are sometimes dodgy and oftentimes completely submerged under water. ⬇️

Vernon was dropped to you all months ago and it has not yet been destroyed, thank you kindly. Soooo worthy followers, would you care for another secret swamp reveal?

If you need a swamp to cry in, write this one down: Lawrence Swamp is located in Amherst, Mass. and receives so very few visitors. ⬇️