Quiet of Quakertown Park/Cross Timbers Park

Traci Popejoy, Geography Masters Student, University of North Texas

Quiet of Quakertown Park
On an unseasonably warm Friday in early February, I headed to Quaker Park in the middle of Denton, Texas. This would be my location for observation of nature in an urban environment. I chose Quaker Park for multiple reasons. As a biogeographer working with freshwater mussels, my preferred environment involves flowing freshwater. Sadly, I don’t live close to a stream currently, so the channelized Pecan creek at Quaker Park would be an appropriate substitute. Another reason I chose this area from my observation was from a recent experience involving getting lost trying to switch over my electricity for my new apartment, which in my opinion is a decidedly urban task. So, after a relatively short day in the lab, I headed to Quakertown Park for a lovely moment spent with urbanized nature.
I drove a short while from the university to the park. As I travelled through neighborhoods, I noticed each had a lawn of short grass and at least one tree. Just before I reached my ultimate destination, I passed the northern edge of Quaker Park. As it was around 3:30, it was bursting with children and parents. While I was contemplating later I would notice how they seemed to spill from the playground like ants from a hill. After arrival at the park, I walked across the dainty bridge and sat within the grass under a tree. The park was remarkably quiet, with the faint laughter of children in the distance. You could hear the wind blowing through the park, buffeted by the sparse trees and artificial city buildings. Off in the distance you could hear construction vehicles working. Rarely, you could hear a bird chirp in the trees, but its call was never answered. The grass I sat on was half dead from the winter, but half alive with new shoots reaching for the bright, warm sun. The tree provided me a little shade, but the shade stopped just before it reached the creek. Soon the sun was lulling me into a nap on the grass, but I was determined to actively observe an urban environment.

To shake the sleep from my eyes, I went to my car, directly opposite of the tree. From the parking lot where my car was parked, I walked toward the old tree that had given me shade just a few moments ago. Looking down like a true stream ecologist, I watched as the parking lot abruptly turned into manicured grass. Within seven feet, I was back on concrete as I was walking down a concrete embankment to the ‘creek’. The steep climb of concrete led me to a stream of water barely a half inch tall and a foot wide. After crossing the five yard wide ‘creek bed’, I was walking up the steep concrete embankment again before reaching grass and the nice tree again. One thing that struck me about this transect was the abrupt changes in ground type. You could tell the edges were edged and the grass routinely kept in check. I then ran down the embankment again and watched the water for a while. Upon closer inspection, I could see the slow movement of water downstream. What I had previously thought was mud was in fact more concrete. At this portion of the creek there was no silt or sediment, just patches of windblown leaves and a tiny bit of litter. I looked for bugs within the small stream and just saw a little guy crawling along the bottom. At least I hope he was a bug and not just a little rock. I flipped over a leaf, hoping to find any aquatic insects or larvae, but sadly saw nothing but water bubbles and an empty leaf. Without a gravel or sediment to hang on too, these aquatic insects can be subject to huge sheer forces during food events. This would essentially push all aquatic animal life downstream and out of the channel. Disappointed with the lack of life in the stream, I decided to walk along the dry river bed. While the amount of sunlight changed significantly, life remained invisible to my eyes. As I got further downstream, I actually began to see algae and the beginnings of sediment along what would be equivalent of a ripple. After approximately 50 yards I approached a fork in the stream. The other creek in this fork was an un-channelized and more natural creek. The water flowed over algae covered rocks and insects flew over the water. You could hear the creek ‘babbling’ as water flowed through a ripple. While this river looked more natural, I again didn’t see as many insects as I expected. But in reality, the insects might be in diapause, buried into the stream substrate.

Of all my observations, I think the most striking was how people interacted with this park. In total, I saw about seven people during my forty minutes at Quakertown Park. Most people stayed on the sidewalk and observed the relatively tranquil quiet the park offered. Instead of venturing into the nice, manicured grass, they stayed on the smooth sidewalk, apart from nature. The only person, other than myself, I saw within something that wasn’t strictly human created (though you could argue that the whole park was human generated) was a man eating his lunch by a tree. He was only there for fifteen minutes, sitting by the tree watching the channelized river go by. But, as I was driving away a corgi and its owner entered the park. From these observations I get the feeling that many people don’t want to be innately involved in nature. They want the picturesque scenery, but not the messiness of growing grass, pebbled creeks, and muddy, sloping banks. While I was experiencing this urban landscape, I saw the ghost of what nature truly is in my mind.

Observational Blog #2: Cross Timbers Park

For my observation of managed nature, I chose to visit the Cross Timbers Park in south Denton. This park covers 70.2 acres across multiple mini-parks and trails on the Hickory Creek watershed. This area is part of a stormwater quality project for the city, meaning it attempts to reduce storm water flood pulses in the river and promote infiltration into the ground water table. Cross Timbers Park is site 678 of the 319 grant attempting to preserve Hickory Creek from further enrichment from urbanization (Site Selection Overview). This park was originally started when Denton citizens petitioned for a park and nature study center in South Denton They were awarded a donation from the Parks Foundation and a grant from the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department. “The Cross Timbers Park now preserves a section of the Cross Timbers Forest, part of a historic stand of trees that once extended from southern Oklahoma through North Texas” (Parks Foundation). So the Cross Timbers Park is intended to provide multiple ecosystem services including recreational, educational, as well as flood management.

I arrived at Cross Timbers Park after getting lost driving through a neighborhood on the south side of

Denton. A nice playground and concrete path greeted me as I moved from my car towards the park. Before entering the park, a large sign stating one of the purposes of this park as a “Stormwater Quality Project” area looked friendly and informative. Farther from the road, a field of short grass greeted me, with a small area for benches that had recycling and trashcans. By the picnic benches, small groups of tall trees indicated the beginning of the storm drainage system. From these tall trees, the hidden street drainage ditch led into a shallow depression, which still held water from recent rains. The area was planted with small trees, many of which had soaker hoses wrapped around their bases. This shallow depression, which led towards the stream, was interspersed with rock areas intended to slow lateral flows of storm waters. I eventually followed the depression until I reached a dirt path leading into the riparian forest associated with the stream. As I entered the small grove, I heard the wind sweeping through the tree tops and birds singing to each other. I followed the small dirt path until I reached a drop-off that looked into a small stream. There I saw a tire swing hanging from a tree on the other bank of the stream. Finding a path down to the stream bed, I followed the stream for ten feet before finding a small dirt ledge to sit on. There I could hear the brook talking, insects buzzing around, and multiple song birds singing. I reached into the river and felt the cool water flow quickly over my hand. The stream substrate was mainly sand, but small groupings of pebbles created leaf dams perfect for stream insects. Algae covered many of the rocks, and bugs seemed to be prolific in this small stream. As I was sitting I noticed animal tracks within the sediment by

the stream. It seems raccoons and probably a coyote have been by this stream lately. I also noticed shoe prints as well, indicating I wasn’t the only adventurous human. While I explored the area a little, I found a bike submerged and abandoned in the stream. It was already becoming habitat for stream fauna. I also found Corbicula shells, though no live mussels. This particular stream was probably too small and intermittent for native freshwater mussels to survive, but I’m certain freshwater mussels reside within larger portions of Hickory Creek. After exploring, I trekked out of the stream up an avalanche of rock, obviously a part of the Stormwater Quality Project. As I reached the top of the stream bank, it was clear this was the final destination of the meandering depression from the street. As I walked around the rest of the park, I found another dirt path that led through the forest, which eventually led me to trespassing (maybe?). I then followed the concrete path through the remainder of the open grass field to reach the playground and my car again.

Comparing this experience to my urban nature experience, it was refreshingly different. Though it was still evident that I was within a city, nature was much less confined. People were enjoying the playground and using the concrete path for power walking. What inspired me the most though was the family with little kids headed down the dirt path to the stream as I was leaving. Though this park wasn’t completely unaltered by people, it was pleasant to see the young toddlers walking through the riparian forest, eyes up with wonder at the birds. While it was obvious this isn’t what many people would think is pristine nature, it was still better than the channelized Pecan Creek. I would worry about the immense amount of fertilizer and oil from the nearby neighborhood flows into the river, but as a storm water quality control area, this park’s goal is to eliminate those harmful toxins before they reach the river. Overall, I think the Cross Timbers Park provides a great recreational and environmental service (in regards to the river) to the Denton community. Cross Timbers Park provides these services at a small scale, but I hope to visit a larger version of a managed ecosystem before the end of the semester: The Green Belt on 380.

References:
City of Denton. (2013). Parks Foundation Projects and Programs. Retrieved from http://www.cityofdenton.com/departments-services/departments-g-p/parks-recreation/parks-foundation/projects-and-programs

City of Denton. (2011). 319 Grant for the Lake Lewisville Watershed. Retrieved from http://www.cityofdenton.org/departments-services/departments-q-z/water-utilities/watershed-protection-program/319-grant-for-the-lake-lewisville-watershed

City of Denton. (2010). Site Selection Overview. Retreived from http://www.cityofdenton.org/home/showdocument?id=8367