I get more than I give when I volunteer

I get more than I give when I volunteer by Skip Beaird

Newly retired, my search for ‘the right’ volunteer opportunity had a Goldilocks quality. I wanted a good fit which would let me connect to people and nature. Training for Wild Basin trail guides seemed exciting, and essential.

I’ll confess, I was never impressed with Wild Basin. It seemed like a tiny preserve surrounded by expensive houses and a major highway. Besides, the scrub cedar land it represented, the same land I roamed on as a kid, was not that special. It was overgrazed, hunted, burned, cleared and abused. Of course, I was wrong. Beauty is in the details.

Our trail guide training took place one morning, and included a hike with Barbara, the Executive Director. My eyes started opening a bit. And then, the magic happened. I completed two, ‘shadow’ hikes with experienced trail guides leading packs of young school kids. Toothache trees, Gall wasps, Tube worms, and Plesiosaurs. Golden cheeks and Vireos.  Inland seas, faulting, erosion and bear snot (Nostoc). But most importantly, young minds, (and at least one old one) being shown something they might miss. Something magical. But then, full stop, Covid struck.

With the onset of the pandemic, my tenuous connections were severed. I had also been looking into the Texas Master Naturalist training and I was fortunate to get into the Balcones CanyonLands training class. The training was a pandemic lifesaver. What great folks. I’m so pleased to be a part of such a dedicated group.  Wild Basin had stuck with me, but there were no more school trips, no need for trail guides. But needing volunteer hours, why not go back to Wild Basin. So after a bit of searching for the right contact, Nikki e-mailed me about the Thursday work crew and I showed up.

 The longest serving member of the team has been at it fifteen years, the next eight, they have deep knowledge, long history and yet, they warmly welcomed me. I had found something connected. Each work order was met with enthusiasm, trail trimming, berm building, masking social trails, cleaning storage spaces; each work day often included a hike. Walking the boundary with Terri was especially exciting, like going backstage. And, like a curious kid, I constantly peppered the Preserve Managers, Nikki and then Terri, and now Trevor, with questions. What’s this plant? The answers came patiently. Escarpment cherry is suddenly familiar. Yep, still learning .

Stewardship is more than an activity, it’s a deep connection, a bridge and a community. Its a thing of hope. There is something deep here. And it largely goes unspoken. Yes, we are an irreverent bunch. We laugh at ourselves, each other and the world at large. But there is also quiet reverence. I am hopeful that soon, some loud school bus of kids who have never been beyond their own backyard can come to WB. I would like to help them see the magic that abides here. But even if I don’t, it’s here. As for me, I still have much to learn.