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I have always loved being in the woods in late September. Growing up, countless early-Autumn weekends were spent with my grandparents on their 45-acre woodlot along the Hudson River. They purchased this maple, pine, and birch forest for $800 way back in 1951, and it was a foundational part of our family’s connection and commitment to each other. Our land was a haven for song birds and wildlife, a quiet place of respite and contemplation, and a working woodlot where all of us gathered when it was time to cut next winter’s wood. Every September, it offered up the twelve cords of maple, ash, and oak that heated my grandparents’ home. Here, under a dappled canopy of colors, was where I learned how to love trees. This was the crucible that forged my conservation ethic. READ MORE
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