Latitude: 43° 1'32.39"NLongitude: 89°26'4.58"W
I grew up in Madison, Wisconsin. Right across the street from my house, there's this little "conservation park", called the Knollwood. My bedroom window faces the entrance. The park is neighbors to the much larger, much more impressive University of Wisconsin-Madison Arboretum, but the two parks are separated by a fence (which has been cut so the two parks have an access point). I don't know why the Knollwood is not considered part of the arboretum, perhaps its just too measly and insubstantial for them to want. There are hiking trails which become paths for cross country skiers in the winter, but not a whole lot else.
When I was younger, the park had a railroad track running through it and my sister and I would meet the neighbor girls out there whenever we heard a train whistle. We would run across the slightly decrepit wooden bridges over the meandering stream and lay pennies on the track. Terrified by the trains but simletaneously enthralled by the transformation the pennies would go through, we'd hide in the brambles and hope the conductor didn't see us. Once the train had hurried past, we'd go collect our smooth, misshapen treasures.
Around the same time that I entered middle school, the forest was "remodeled" by the city. The rotting wooden bridges were replaced with a concrete one, and the once free spirited stream was contained by strict, man made barricades. The railroad is out of service now too. It has been cleared away and a bike path has been put in its place. The park sees many more visitors than it ever had before and I'm slightly uncomfortable about it. When I was young, it always seemed like this park was ours. We could explore it, clear trails, and ice skate in the winter, and now it's much more common to see other people in our forest. The park has become so much more public, when it used to feel so private.
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