Fowler Woods State Nature Preserve

Some places reveal themselves slowly. Fowler Woods was one of those places for me.

I first heard about it from a coworker, and before visiting I did what I usually do—I read about the preserve and tried to learn a little of its history. Much of what I found focused on a section of the boardwalk that had once been closed because of diseased trees. I wasn’t sure how much of the preserve I would actually be able to explore, but I decided it was worth the visit anyway.

I arrived just after eight on a cool spring morning. The sun was only beginning to rise above the trees, casting long ribbons of light through the trees to the forest floor. The preserve was wonderfully quiet, and for a while I had the entire place to myself. One small thing made me smile immediately: a sign letting visitors know that dogs were not permitted. For someone who enjoys slow, peaceful walks, it felt like an invitation to relax. The boardwalk splits near the entrance. Rather than deciding intellectually which direction to take, I paused and asked my feet which way they wanted to go which is what I often rely on while exploring. That morning, it led me to the left.

Spring’s earliest wildflowers had already finished blooming, but the woods were full of fresh green leaves, birdsong, and the gentle stillness that seems to settle over forests before the day fully begins. The cool morning air also meant the mosquitoes were content to leave me mostly alone. As I continued through the preserve, I began noticing several unusual arrangements of branches, arched saplings, and fallen trees tucked into the woods beyond the boardwalk. I found them fascinating and spent time quietly observing and photographing them.

The farther I walked, the more I realized the trail must be fully open after all. When a mother pulling her young daughter in a wagon appeared from the opposite direction, I laughed to myself. So much for expecting a barricade. Sometimes it’s nice to discover that the stories you read online are no longer the whole story.

A Personal Experience

Before visiting Fowler Woods, I used muscle testing to find out that there were two Sasquatch people who called this preserve home. Whether others understand that through the lens of intuition, spirituality, or imagination, I simply remained open to whatever the morning might bring. For much of the walk, nothing unusual happened. Then, as I began to grow a little tired, I became aware of someone, a presence, walking beside me. Normally, if I sense something like this, conversation comes naturally. This time, though, I was unexpectedly shy. I actually stopped on the boardwalk and admitted, out loud, “I don’t know what to say. I feel really shy.” It suddenly occurred to me that I often speak quite freely to whoever it is without ever considering whether the other being might appreciate a quiet introduction first. The realization made me laugh at myself a little, but it also felt important. So instead of trying to fill the silence, I simply kept walking and allowed myself to be present as I could feel them walking with me.

A few moments later, my attention was gently drawn toward a fallen log perhaps 20 yards off the boardwalk. Growing across it was the largest cluster of mushrooms I had seen anywhere in the preserve. The moment I spotted them, I got so excited that my self-consciousness completely disappeared. From then on, it felt as though the woods came alive around me and I was being guided to notice things I might have missed otherwise. Chipmunks darted across the forest floor. A deer stood quietly in a patch of sunlight among the trees, watching me. Moss-covered logs, delicate patterns of light, and one beautiful photograph after another seemed to reveal themselves almost effortlessly.

Near the end of my walk, another quiet moment made me smile. The boardwalk divided again, and I asked my feet which way to go and I found myself leaning to the right. I wasn’t sure why, but I followed the leaning of my body. A few minutes later, a man came down the main boardwalk walking his dog. Had I continued straight, we would have had to pass each other and I am not fond of being in close proximity to dogs I don’t know. Instead, by the time I returned, the path was empty once again. The walk ended beside a peaceful marsh, and on my way back I passed wild roses whose fragrance filled the morning air. It felt like a gentle ending to a morning that had quietly brought me more surprises than I had expected.

What This Place Gave Me

Fowler Woods reminded me that every relationship begins with an introduction. Whether with another person, a forest, or something we can’t easily explain, there is no need to rush familiarity. Sometimes the most meaningful conversations begin with simple presence, shared silence, and the willingness to notice what quietly appears along the way.

Here you can see Fowler Woods as I saw it through the lens of my camera. If you would rather enjoy the video with my experience included, you can find it below…