Back to nature
Cheryl Unruh
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
NATURE is the original comeback kid.
If you clear underbrush, it returns. Burn off a pasture and that just makes it greener quicker. Neglect a building for a year or two and the weeds, woody vines and trees snuggle up against it.
Nature’s goal is to reclaim territory, to return the planet to wildness, to wilderness. The skin of the earth is continually trying to heal itself from human intervention.
I’ve seen dozens of abandoned silos in Kansas that have good-sized trees growing from the tops of them. It’s nature’s way of planting a flag, of proclaiming “mine.”
Sixty-mph winds do their best to blow down wooden barns and once-white farmhouses. Rain and hail beat on them. Boards contract in the cold, expand in the heat. Nails loosen. The wood falls to the earth and decays, becoming one with the soil.
This is a normal process, matter changing form. It’s that whole dust-to-dust thing that is part of life — but the concept of nature’s reclamation of buildings has never been as obvious to me as it was on a recent visit to Neosho Falls.
Neosho Falls is a town of about 174 in Woodson County. (You’ll find it just this side of Piqua.) There’s no highway running into town, so the place doesn’t get many passing-through visitors. To wind up here, you have to either be aiming for the town — or else be totally lost.
According to Daniel Fitzgerald in “Ghost Towns of Kansas,” Neosho Falls claimed county seat-hood in 1858. After a tug-of-war, in 1876 the Woodson County courthouse was awarded to Yates Center.
In 1879, it was reported that 40,000 people came to see President Rutherford B. Hayes when he stopped in Neosho Falls. The town once had an active railroad and roundhouse. Oil was found here in 1937 and there was a spell of drilling.
“During the 1940s and 1950s several destructive fires and floods left the town in ruins,” Fitzgerald wrote.
No, the flood of ’51 did not go over well in this town. Mother Nature is a pretty woman, but not always kind. People left the area.
I have a fondness for Neosho Falls. It’s one of my favorite small towns in the state. I’m happy to report that there is again a gathering spot in town — the tavern has reopened as The Oasis.
During this recent visit to Neosho Falls, the vines caught my attention. Woodbine isn’t as innocent as it appears to be.
On the main drag, several abandoned storefronts have been engulfed by these creeping vines. Trees are growing inside the buildings, limbs reaching out through window openings.
Memorial Hall has been attacked by vines as well. In the summer this three-story red brick building looks like a leafy Chia Pet.
The woodbine grows unchecked. The vines are opportunists; foliage worms its way through mortar. Like fingers, the tendrils clutch onto bricks and pull them down one by one.
It’s going to take some work to bring down the ’30s school building. This formidable structure has the appearance of an above-ground concrete bunker. But now without a roof or windows or doors, trees grow inside the auditorium; vines smother the walls.
Across from Riverside Park, where President Hayes made his appearance, is, what looks like to me, the remnants of an old Phillips 66 station. It’s a small cottage-style building with a pointed roof.
The stone cottage is swamped by trees and vines which camouflage it, making it practically invisible. Another building has been captured by nature — and is going down.
It’s sad to see these old structures being swallowed whole. The brick, stone and wooden buildings have been placeholders of time, showing us that generations of Kansans lived here and thrived. Once upon a time.
I left town with mixed emotions. There’s the feeling of loss — of history, of time, of the stories of people who once lived here.
But nature offers a different version. She tells the story of wholeness, of overcoming, of starting anew.
Cheryl Unruh can be reached at cheryl@flyoverpeople.net.
ZaneRokklyn (anonymous) says...
Well said! Thank you, Cheryl!
May 27, 2009 at 10:24 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )