Guest post by Julie Dart
I first fell in love with nature in suburban Los Angeles, where I grew up. The landscape was brown most of the year, but there was always something new to see. I loved to hike in the mountains behind our house alone or with my father, watching the sky for hawks, identifying plants, and marveling at the views of the neighborhoods below.
The mountains were my sanctuary. It was quiet there, and my father and I got along better. At home, he could be loud, volatile, and scary. On our hikes he was in a good mood—a calmer, gentler version of himself—and I felt safer and at peace.
As the years passed, though, those mountains filled with large new homes. Our new neighbors erased or planted over the trails behind their yards. When we bushwhacked up the mountain anyway, we saw fewer coyotes and deer. Forced out of their habitat, these and other animals such as skunks and raccoons increasingly appeared in our yard at night, searching for food. Many of them looked sickly and thin. The California quails in our neighborhood also disappeared, and I missed their soft gurgling.
Indiana didn’t have mountains, but it was a different kind of paradise. The deep green of the Midwestern landscape took my breath away when I moved here in 1986. Tall oaks, maples, and other hardwoods shaded homes and streets. Fields and lawns were lush instead of brown and patchy. The air was fresh and unpolluted.
I treasured the variety of natural areas in Indiana—waterways were plentiful and flowed freely, while wetlands and deep gorges offered relief from summer’s heat. I felt privileged to share the land with box turtles, foxes, deer, snakes, and a myriad of birds and waterfowl. A different kind of beauty revealed itself with every change of seasons.
My life changed, too, after I moved to Indiana. My irregular work schedule and constant deadlines could be stressful. Post-partum depression, parenthood, moving houses, and navigating both my parents’ terminal illnesses made self-care even more essential. Spending time in nature, alone and with my family, continued to provide a lifeline during this period and afterward.
But, as the years passed, I saw how residential and commercial development was steadily replacing those natural areas just as it did around my childhood home. I wanted to give back somehow, to ensure my adopted state remained hospitable to wildlife and for later generations of Hoosiers to enjoy.
Donating to CILTI enables me to make a meaningful difference in protecting our wild spaces. For many years, I held jobs that prevented me from supporting politically partisan organizations. CILTI is nonpartisan; it does not engage in lobbying but focuses solely on protecting and conserving land and water in Central Indiana.
It also works closely with the Division of Nature Preserves of the Indiana Department of Natural Resources, The Nature Conservancy, and other Indiana land trusts to make acquisitions that wouldn’t be possible otherwise. This and CILTI’s collaboration with the Indiana Land Protection Alliance effectively multiply the potential impact of even a modest gift, as do periodic matching grants.
Preserving Indiana’s natural areas as refuges for Hoosiers and our native wildlife is the responsibility of all who benefit from them. And every gift to the Central Indiana Land Trust, no matter how modest, is important. I hope you will join me in supporting CILTI’s important work.
