My History Assignment (& Something Spooky in the Nature Center)
Hey friends, Ember here. Big week this week: I got a writing assignment from Mrs. Lee. We’re supposed to pick a piece of local history and explain why it matters. Naturally, I chose our playground–the Thurston Nature Center.
🌿 A Living Classroom Since 1967
So here’s what I learned:
- The Thurston Nature Center started in 1967, created by students, teachers, and the Ann Arbor community.
- Dr. William Stapp, a pioneer in environmental education (he later worked with UNESCO!), helped turn a polluted marsh into a 20‑acre outdoor school.
- By 1968, it was officially protected by the Michigan Department of Natural Resources and even got national recognition from Lady Bird Johnson.
- Today, it’s home to 166 bird species, including the great blue heron—our school mascot—and supports frogs, turtles, butterflies, oak savanna, rain gardens, and more.
Isn’t that wild? A ghost town turned full of life. No wonder I love it.
Why It Matters
I wrote about how TNC is:
- A natural lab for students, inspiring careers in science and caring for the planet.
- A precious urban wildlife refuge—great blue herons, turtles, monarch butterflies, frogs—they all depend on it.
- A community-built legacy. It was discovered by kids and neighborhood clean‑ups—not adults drawing lines on maps.
Thanks thurstonnaturecenter.info for the info!
Mr. D had everyone cheering about building a new techy school… but he didn’t mention destroying this living history.
First Weird Moment
After school, I walked into the Nature Center to take photos for my assignment. I was focusing on the pond and snapping the great blue heron statue (school mascot, duh) when I felt… watched.
Then I heard it: a soft, birdlike twitter—not a real bird. It echoed behind me, right near the old oak grove that’s marked as “student‑planted in ’67.”
I whirled around. Nothing. Just the rustling leaves and my own huffs. I joked to myself, “Chill, Ember—probably just Sami or Evan messing with you.”
But then: a single blue heron chick silhouette flitted behind the trees. It was too quick, too graceful—like it glided. My heart hammered.
I called out, “Hello? Bird friend?” and the sound stopped. I waited a long minute. Then it was just me and the wind again.
What I Think
- Maybe there’s an undiscovered heron nesting area near the construction boundary.
- Or maybe it’s… something else. I don’t know yet.
What’s Next
My report’s almost done. I’m going to include photos of the old amphitheater and the oak walk (which older people still remember planting). And I’m adding a paragraph titled “Can History Teach Us to Listen?”—I think that bird‑ghost thing deserves a part.
Next post: I’ll share my research, pictures,—and whatever made me feel something in the grove. Until then, I might bring a friend on my next walk (someone with less imagination).
Stay curious—and ever alert.
🪶 Ember