Look What the Ice Storm Gave Us by Lisa Leonard
The first time I remember talking about the concept of a bird-viewing blind with the Audubon Society, I was a Girl Scout troop leader for two troops and I was a site team volunteer for Pennyroyal Girl Scout Camp. There was a long time when the subject of building a bird blind fell by the wayside but I just kept thinking, “This just has to happen.”
I think I was newly hired as Site Manager for Camp Pennyroyal Girl Scout Camp in 2000 when word came to me that a girl was planning to work with the Audubon Society in building a bird viewing blind in order to win her Gold Award. I was here at the camp from day one when the flooring went down, and when the project was taken over by the Audubon Society in August, I worked side-by-side with volunteers layering adobe on the walls. The week before the dedication of the blind in late October of 2001, I recruited a family member to install the one-way glass windows and the large double doors. The blind that is named for Bert and Millie Powell has been close to my heart even before construction began up until this day.
Now let’s jump forward to January of 2009 when I sat in my house here at camp with my daughter and her young son as we listened to trees falling all around outside. We knew we needed to move our cars before they were crushed but we found the locks frozen and had to listen helplessly as we heard the crunching of metal and the thunder of falling limbs and trees.
The next morning by light of day, I had to use a chain saw to get out of my house. I learned in the coming days how lucky we were that the structural damage to the house was minimal. When I saw all the limbs down around the blind, I knew I could count on the Audubon Society to help. It was not long before I heard that the Audubon Society was planning a work day. I never worried whether they would keep their word about taking care of the area, but I wondered how we would deal with the broken limbs dangling above the paths and too close to the blind for comfort.
On a work day this fall, I remember Rose Ann Radzelovedge coming with a wrinkled brow and wide eyes to let me know that extreme measures were underway in dealing with an oak tree that was threatening the approach to the blind. She feared that I would be upset, but I was delighted to have this task lifted from my shoulders. The first time I looked at the stump left by Tony Eaden’s chain saw, I was impressed by his skill in dropping the very tall tree exactly where he planned, but I saw the stump as an eyesore.
David Stratton, a graphic arts professor at Brescia University, has picked up his chain saw where Tony Eaden left off and carved what he describes as “a man-eating frog” that is now waiting for spring when it will get its coat of preservative oil. David deliberately left bark on some areas of the frog for its warty appearance. You see me here on my knees planting the first kiss on our frog sculpture. The girls are going to love this.
The fable of a princess kissing a frog has already come true according to Brenda Little, President of the Audubon Society. She says that David Stratton is a real-life prince who came to our rescue in a charming and imaginative way.













