Nora's Woods

This week, while researching my next book, I came across Nora’s Woods. It’s a small wilderness park in the Madrona neighborhood of Seattle—the size of one residential lot. It all started out as the idea of one woman, named—fantastically enough—Nora Wood.

In 1987, having grown concerned over the loss of green space in the Madrona neighborhood, Nora purchased the 1/3 acre lot. At the time it was mostly blackberry brambles, invasive ivy, and trash. But there were a few mature maples and some ferns; there was possibility.

Unfortunately, Nora did not live to see her park, she passed away in 1989. Seven years later, her family donated the parcel to the Trust for Public Lands, who took the project on as an experiment in preserving smaller green spaces in the urban core. They partnered with community members to transform the vacant lot into a neighborhood treasure.

It took more than sixty volunteers a year and a half to pull out the English ivy and thorny blackberry, to dig out empty beer cans, injection needs, bullets, a car tire and more. Neighbors raised funds to hire a landscape designer and applied to the city for grants and created artwork to be installed in the park space. When the project was completed it was chosen as one of four finalists in the nationwide Neighborhood of the Year contest, in the beautification category. (An added bonus, crime in the immediate neighborhood of the park dropped by 36%.)

Today, Nora’s Woods is a peaceful bit of native greenery in an increasingly developed city. Yesterday, on an early spring day, wildflowers were peeking out from amongst the ferns and Oregon grape. Pale sunlight and birdsong filtered through the trees. I can only imagine how inviting and cool this haven would be on a hot summer day.

As the sign in Nora’s Woods encourages: “Enjoy this peaceful place – a sanctuary of tall trees, native plants, and local art.”

But what I kept thinking about yesterday is this:

It is so easy to feel like one person can’t make a difference. Especially right now, with all that is happening in the world. It’s easy to get overwhelmed and feel ineffectual. It’s easy to want to give up.

But the truth is we can all make a difference, we can all leave behind something special. Maybe it’s a park, maybe it’s artwork, maybe it’s an organization, maybe it’s a family or a club or a class or a tradition.

That is what I am trying to focus on: what good can I do from here? What seeds might I be able to plant for the future? How—and with whom—might I be able to build community?

I’m convinced we only get through this together.

—Tara ❤️

Some good things I’ve enjoyed recently:
Marian Bull waxing rhapsodic on the pleasure of tea.
Courtney Martin feeding my obsession with What’s Your Community Style?
More community with this delightful case study, Stoop Coffee: How a Simple Idea Transformed My Neighborhood.
My current favorite poem, by Emory Hall.

Something else to enjoy: my books