A passion for indigenous grasses and wildflowers turned a ninth-generation farmer into a steward of seeds. On a ramble down to Johnston County, our roving writer learns how Don Lee is helping restore native landscapes across the South.
Centuries ago, migrating passenger pigeons flew south by the millions, great rivers of feathers streaming through the sky. Those birds are gone now, but their memory is a reminder to look up: Spring still brings a flood of winged wonder.
Once, our longleaf pines produced the materials that helped ships travel around the globe — but the profits came at a price. Now, the forests that rang out with the sounds of industry stand quiet, and the last witnesses to that era are a rare find indeed.
Times have changed since scions of the Gilded Age hunted quail in piney woods across the Piedmont. But those who hope to preserve a home for the little birds will always listen for a bobwhite’s whistle.