Duluth, as we know, is a special place. The lake greets us every morning as an ever-present reminder.
I grew up here and returned as an adult because I remembered it being somewhere I could, in fewer than five or 10 minutes, walk or bike to a patch of quiet woods. As a child, my friends and I spent every possible free moment outside. We went to the woods to run and ski, but the primary reason we sought out open spaces was to get quiet and to feel free. We wrote, we prayed, we meditated. We went on silent walks under Hartley's snowy pines. Duluth, I realized as I got older, was special because of this, because one could live in an urban setting but still sit quietly in nature. It felt like a small city on the edge of a wilderness. Things are changing in Duluth. I was thrilled to return and make my home here again, especially after listening to friends talk about the new positive energy in the city. Now that I'm here, I'm grateful to be in the woods on dirt trails daily, whether on foot, on skis, or on my bike. But the experience is quite different. While Duluth successfully has created outdoor playgrounds where people can bike, recreate and find adventure, we haven't adequately preserved what makes Duluth most unique: our wild-feeling open places. There are now far fewer patches of woods where we can go to quietly walk, decompress, and simply be. One of the objectives of an ongoing city visioning process known as Imagine Duluth 2035 is determining which green spaces in Duluth are appropriate for development versus preservation. It feels like we are at a momentous juncture in the life of our growing city. Duluth's green and open spaces are inherently valuable, beyond their potential monetary value for development. They're valuable beyond ecosystems services and even beyond recreation, sporting activities, and beautiful viewsheds. They are valuable because they are green and open. As Duluthians, we know intuitively how much the character of our city - and our very own well-being - is dependent on the informal, undeveloped pockets of green in our city. So let us, in this time of growth, remember these quiet, open spaces and protect them before they are gone. I believe if we are careful in our planning, we can preserve Duluth's wild heart. Kelsey Jones-Casey was born and raised in Duluth and returned in 2015 after 10 years in Seattle. She is a Fulbright fellow studying the impacts of climate change on the well-being of people who live close to the land in the Lake Superior watershed. Those people include hunters, trappers, anglers and farmers.Duluth, as we know, is a special place. The lake greets us every morning as an ever-present reminder.
I grew up here and returned as an adult because I remembered it being somewhere I could, in fewer than five or 10 minutes, walk or bike to a patch of quiet woods. As a child, my friends and I spent every possible free moment outside. We went to the woods to run and ski, but the primary reason we sought out open spaces was to get quiet and to feel free. We wrote, we prayed, we meditated. We went on silent walks under Hartley's snowy pines.Duluth, I realized as I got older, was special because of this, because one could live in an urban setting but still sit quietly in nature. It felt like a small city on the edge of a wilderness.Things are changing in Duluth. I was thrilled to return and make my home here again, especially after listening to friends talk about the new positive energy in the city. Now that I'm here, I'm grateful to be in the woods on dirt trails daily, whether on foot, on skis, or on my bike.But the experience is quite different. While Duluth successfully has created outdoor playgrounds where people can bike, recreate and find adventure, we haven't adequately preserved what makes Duluth most unique: our wild-feeling open places. There are now far fewer patches of woods where we can go to quietly walk, decompress, and simply be.One of the objectives of an ongoing city visioning process known as Imagine Duluth 2035 is determining which green spaces in Duluth are appropriate for development versus preservation. It feels like we are at a momentous juncture in the life of our growing city. Duluth's green and open spaces are inherently valuable, beyond their potential monetary value for development. They're valuable beyond ecosystems services and even beyond recreation, sporting activities, and beautiful viewsheds.They are valuable because they are green and open. As Duluthians, we know intuitively how much the character of our city - and our very own well-being - is dependent on the informal, undeveloped pockets of green in our city.So let us, in this time of growth, remember these quiet, open spaces and protect them before they are gone. I believe if we are careful in our planning, we can preserve Duluth's wild heart. Kelsey Jones-Casey was born and raised in Duluth and returned in 2015 after 10 years in Seattle. She is a Fulbright fellow studying the impacts of climate change on the well-being of people who live close to the land in the Lake Superior watershed. Those people include hunters, trappers, anglers and farmers.
Local view: Duluth must cling to its quiet, open spaces
Duluth, as we know, is a special place. The lake greets us every morning as an ever-present reminder. [[{"type":"media","view_mode":"media_preview","fid":"3168511","attributes":{"alt":"","class":"media-image","height":"180","title":"","typeof":"f...
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