Jason Frenzel believes there’s a naturalist in each of us just waiting to come out. As the volunteer and outreach coordinator for the city’s Natural Area Preservation (NAP) program—which aims to protect and restore more than 1,200 acres of natural areas in Ann Arbor—part of his job is to help residents find their nature niche. “The human spirit wants to be connected naturally,” he says. “We have programs for folks of all interest levels.”

NAP began in 1993 and is funded through a city millage but relies heavily on volunteers. With their support, NAP surveys parks and natural areas and then creates plans to manage them. Volunteers root out invasive non-native plants by hand on designated workdays—this spring, 224 volunteers pulled 10,800 pounds of garlic mustard in just two days—and NAP conducts prescribed burns, to promote a more diverse ecosystem. Volunteers also clear trails, weed gardens, and spread wood chips.

Some volunteers work one weekend a year. Others, like Leisa Thompson, are regulars. Since she was a young girl, Thompson says, she’s sought refuge in nature because it’s a place she feels “at peace and in the moment.” Now she’s a trained NAP surveyor of frogs, toads, and salamanders and sometimes takes her two children along when she makes observations at five city parks. Surveying these amphibians is one way NAP determines an area’s environmental health. She remembers a visit in early spring where she heard an orchestra in the woods: spring peepers plus chorus, wood, and leopard frogs calling all at once. “It was truly magical,” she says.

In search of my own magical nature experience, I take my nine-year-old son to Gallup Park at 7:30 a.m. on a Saturday for an NAP bird-watching walk—one of many educational programs the group coordinates for the public. We meet ornithologist Dea Armstrong, who leads us on the two-hour stroll along the Huron River. As Armstrong points out where barn swallows are nesting under a bridge, a large bird with a huge wingspan soars overhead, and Armstrong instantly identifies it as an osprey. In unison, fifteen of us—a mix of children, adults, and seniors—raise our binoculars to the skies. “This is a rockin’ bird to see today!” she says. She explains that these raptors don’t breed in southeastern Michigan and are seldom spotted here.

We see a Baltimore oriole preen, a barn swallow play with a white feather that floats through the air, cedar waxwings eating berries, a green heron’s nest well hidden in a willow tree, and mute swans protecting their cygnets along the shore. My son seems more interested in a caterpillar he finds on his T-shirt than in any birds, but for me the experience is exhilarating—like being on a treasure hunt. Frenzel says some participants may eventually become surveyors for NAP’s annual bird breeding survey, and others may be inspired just to spend more time in nature.

Many residents spend time in Ann Arbor’s 160 parks, and about half of these parks have been adopted through NAP’s Adopt-a-Park program. My son’s Cub Scout troop adopted Las Vegas Park, and starting this fall they’ll pick up litter, report any vandalism, keep the paths clear, and help with plantings. Frenzel says no matter the task, volunteers are bound to bond and have some fun, too. “People find that doing good work also is a great social opportunity,” he says.

Originally published in the 2009-2010 Ann Arbor Observer City Guide