At midwinter: The rebirth of the Menomonee Valley

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I went for a nice long walk in 3 Bridges Park on Sunday afternoon, Groundhog Day. There was no sign of a groundhog, but also no doubt about seeing shadows. The sun was bright and the temperature surprisingly comfortable. It felt like a respite from our winter of alternating polar vortices and snowstorms. I had expected to find other people out enjoying the pleasant conditions but my ramble up and down the length of the park was surprisingly solitary.

Judging from the numerous tracks, Saturday had seen heavy use of the park, after yet another snowfall. Ski tracks along the sloping terrain, sled runs down the steeper hills, foot traffic along the Hank Aaron State Trail. Today, though, the park was empty—and beautiful, with a minimalist kind of simplicity. It appeared pristine, as if a freshly laundered sheet had been stretched over the rolling hills. How symbolic, I thought, of its newness and potential.

February 2, is Groundhog Day. But did you know that Feb. 1 is Imbolc? You can be forgiven if you’re not familiar with this ancient mid-winter festival. It is one of four seasonal festivals that come from the Gaelic tradition. Imbolc marks halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox and its approximation to Groundhog Day is unlikely to be a coincidence. Sunny or not it’s always a safe bet in Wisconsin that winter will last another six weeks; this year perhaps even longer!

Imbolc is closely tied to the ancient Celtic goddess Brigid, a healer and protector of artisans, poets, blacksmiths, and domesticated animals. Her element is fire and her season is spring. Christian Ireland turned a nun and abbess named Brigid (or Brigit) of Kildare into one of its three patron saints. Legend has it that St. Brigid “resigned her spirit to heaven” on February 1, which became her feast day. In this case the coincidences of name and date almost certainly are deliberate.

Whether it is referred to as Imbolc or the Feast Day of St. Brigid, however, February 1 is celebrated as the beginning of spring. Unlike Wisconsin, in Ireland it is not unreasonable to envision spring at this early date. But even here there are real as well as symbolic reasons for recognizing spring while the ground is still frozen and covered with snow. It is at this early date when the domestic animals associated with Brigid anticipate spring; ewes begin to lamb and cows to lactate. These hopeful signs, along with the lengthening days and gathering light, bolster people’s faith that seeds lying dormant in the earth will stir. The regeneration of spring that will burst forth at their sprouting is coming.

What does all this have to do with the Menomonee Valley? You might well ask.

I’d like to suggest that the Menomonee Valley is at a symbolic moment of burgeoning possibilities; a time when revitalization is more than a dormant seed in barren earth; a time, in metaphoric terms, akin to Imbolc, when faith and hope envision a brighter future.

The Menomonee Valley once shone brightly as the economic engine of Milwaukee. Although it came at a substantial cost to the natural environment, the Menomonee Valley’s diverse industries—railroads, machinery, leather, farm products, cream city bricks and others—employed thousands of people who lived in surrounding neighborhoods. Then, as these industries and jobs relocated, came the winter of decline and decay. By late 20^th century the formerly vibrant Valley was largely deserted and distressingly polluted.

For a couple of decades things looked quite bleak, much as they can during a particularly long, frigid and snowy winter. The ruins of vacant industries dominated the landscape; contaminated brownfields sprouted feral flora and fauna; the desultory and dirty river was constrained within steel cofferdams and concrete embankments. Few people without specific business there ventured into the Valley. Part of a national shift that saw the “industrial heartland” transformed into the “rust belt,” the Menomonee Valley, at the heart of the city, was its most visible manifestation in Milwaukee.

But, like the ancient followers of Brigid, there have always been a stalwart few who kept the faith, who believed that the Valley could be not simply reborn but reimagined. And what has been imagined involves an unusual combination of industry, community development and care for the environment.

At the dawn of a new century the Menomonee Valley is in the throes of a transformation. Industries are returning, bringing with them jobs that once again attract workers from adjacent neighborhoods. But this new transformation, unlike earlier industrial development, is accompanied by rehabilitation of the river and the natural environment. Along with new industry there are numerous new recreational opportunities. People are beginning to value the Valley in completely new ways. They are coming not only to work but also to play and to experience delight in the presence of nature.

What is being imagined and invented in the Menomonee Valley isn’t simply redevelopment but a new and more sustainable vision for how to live in cities. It is a healing vision that integrates industry, nature, and culture. The seeds of this vision have been sown and are beginning to stir. In fact, some already are visible: a new business park created out of the ruins of the Milwaukee Road yards; a newly accessible and cleaner river; recreational destinations such as Miller Park, Potawatomi Bingo & Casino and the Harley Davidson Museum. Threading them all together is the Hank Aaron State Trail, Wisconsin’s most unique State Park.

The work is not complete. Winter is ebbing and the way ahead looks brighter but it will take time and continued commitment for these seeds to bear fruit. It still is hard for many people to grasp the coming spring. 3 Bridges Park is one of the best places to go to understand the scope of change. Especially now, in mid-winter, with the hills snow laden and stark, it takes great imagination and no small measure of faith to recognize its potential. This is not simply a new park in the city where before there was none, as remarkable as that is. It is not merely open natural space in the most densely populated region of Wisconsin, as precious as that is. It is not only a refuge in an urban environment for wildlife and the human community, as vital as that is.

This apparently empty landscape is the canvas, the blank slate, on which our community has decided to paint a vision for urban life in the twenty-first century. Here in the park and throughout the Menomonee Valley we are forging new relationships between the too often disparate components of our society. It is a healing vision, worthy of the attention of saints and goddesses.

“Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.”  ~ Henry David Thoreau

This post is one in a series that relates to my Menomonee Valley Artist in Residency. For more information about the residency and links to previous posts and photographs, go to MV AiR.

Urban Wilderness story at Salon.com

A couple weeks ago, out of the blue, I got a call from Will Doig at Salon.com. Will writes a blog called Dream City for Salon.com. My recent post about Cambridge Woods caught his search engine's eye. He wrote a very good story about urban parks and natural areas. It's called Is that a Forest Downtown?

courtesy Salon.com/Ben Wheelock

It's gratifying to see my own name, and a quote or two, in the article. But it means more to me that there is a growing awareness of the importance of urban wild places. Will says that there is "a renewed appreciation for wild space in cities — not just “green space,” but actual swamps, forests, wetlands and streams." Yes! 

Will quotes Ken Leinbach, director of the Urban Ecology Center, too. It's nice to be in such good company!

I've long contended that Milwaukee is overdue for the kind of attention that Portland, OR regularly receives for the quality of its urban green spaces. So, check it out: Is that a Forest Downtown?

Earth Day Reflections on Milwaukee's Urban Wilderness

Adapted from a talk at the annual Earth Day celebration sponsored by the Great Waters Group of the Sierra Club.

When I decided in 1999 to name my book Urban Wilderness, I had never heard the term. I thought I’d found a new, wonderfully paradoxical metaphor for the powerful experiences I’d had in Milwaukee. I found out later that someone else had a book so named back in the 1980’s about New York City’s parks, but the term certainly was not in common usage. Today, it’s a different story. Google alerts me whenever someone in cyberspace uses the term and it happens a couple times a week. I think it is an indication of how far we’ve come since 1999.

Fallen giant - Riverside Park

Definitions of “urban wilderness” generally emphasize two things: First, the ability of a natural area to sustain a level of biodiversity that is not typical of urban parks; and second, the aesthetic of wildness, which is to say an appearance of not being managed (almost universally an illusion). The idea of “urban wilderness,” with all its contradictions, challenges, and aspirations, seems part of the spirit of the times. I consider it a hopeful measure of how we see ourselves in the world. To embrace the idea of urban wilderness is to welcome nature into our lives wherever we live, especially in cities or in suburbs.

This may not seem like a radical notion. After all, the Sierra Club has been caring for the earth for over a hundred years. But during most of that time “nature” meant pristine parklands, usually far away and in need of protection from ourselves. Truly more radical, “urban wilderness” expresses the idea that we can enjoy valuable experiences with nature without leaving the city. Olmsted conceived something like it, to be sure, but the casual way the term is used today seems a recent shift in public awareness.

County Grounds Park

As our cities grow ever larger (which they must because high-density living is the only sensible way to avoid sprawl), we will need more opportunities to spend time in relatively wild nature – not just parks – within our urban communities. We must be vigilant constantly about what little parkland and open spaces we have left. Although this requires leadership, it is too important to be left solely to traditional “environmental advocates.” Open green spaces are simultaneously the most important places to save for public use as parklands and the easiest to exploit for economic development. In contrast to the usual scenarios in which “environmentalists” are pitted against “developers,” we cannot afford to see this as a conflict between “good and evil.” We need economic development. We also need to preserve green space. The questions are where and how.

I believe “urban wilderness” is a hopeful idea. But it is also a challenging one. Its central paradox is that urban natural areas are not natural. Their existence depends on deliberate decision-making, planning, and – yes – management. Wherever there is open space there will be pressure to take advantage of it. Conflicts often arise out of genuine needs that seem to be in opposition.

Underwood Creek Parkway

I don’t have to look far from home for examples. We Energies and the American Transmission Company want to run power lines through Milwaukee County’s Underwood Creek Parkway. That has never happened before; thus, it would set a tragic precedent. The plan is broadly and justifiably opposed. But the problem is complex. We all bear responsibility for the need to have power lines because of our energy-intensive lifestyles. We also need unsullied parks and parkways. Any alternative route must acceptable to We Energies – and all stakeholders – as well as the outraged public. But an alternative must be found.

Another example is the Milwaukee County Grounds, where most of the land once considered for economic development has been preserved as open green space. But after more than ten years of public pressure to “preserve the County Grounds,” and after many compromises were reached, one of the most beautiful sections of this remarkable landscape remains unprotected and zoned for economic development.

Economic Development?

Ronald McDonald House provides an indisputably good service. They need to expand. The Milwaukee County Regional Medical Complex, which serves the health needs of thousands of people from all over the region and beyond, continues to grow. There is no evil here. These and other stakeholders -- everyone in the community -- must agree that saving such a beautiful natural place as the County Grounds is in their own interest, which it is.

Managing an “urban wilderness” involves balancing myriad competing interests that rarely can be conveniently dismissed as a struggle for good versus evil. To paraphrase Ken Leinbach, director of the Urban Ecology Center, “this game of preserving, managing, and restoring very public green space in our fair city is not a game for the faint-hearted. Trying to accommodate one user often alienates another.” Avoiding the polarization that is so commonplace today is hard work – but essential if we are to maximize the potential of our urban green spaces.

It makes good economic sense to preserve green space in cities where, to be physically and psychologically healthy, people need access to nature. The evidence for this is well documented. All across the nation, civic and business leaders, and the general public, are beginning to promote healthy, sustainable urban environments that include natural areas. As Peter Harnik, author of Urban Green: Innovative Parks for Resurgent Cities, wrote, “Cities are vying with one another for ‘best park system’ and the ‘livability crown.’” I’ve long thought Milwaukee could be a contender. Instead, parks budgets continue to dwindle and shortsighted land-use policies prevail.

We must always keep the big picture in mind. Many ingredients make up resilient, sustainable, and livable cities, including a vibrant economy. One of the most important ingredients is excellent parks and natural areas. We residents of Milwaukee County have been endowed with one of the nation’s best park systems. Instead of continuing to nibble away at our greatest asset, it’s time we recognize and promote their vitality. Let’s embrace nature and confront the challenges with the hope embodied in the idea of urban wilderness.

Milwaukee River Greenway