How Do We “See” the Sights?

Brett Ramseyer • August 21, 2026

Arm in Arm

Today, I led a sight-seeing tour across Ridges with Andee, a former technical writer and now patient registrar, and Chris, a loquacious and gregarious supermarket greeter. I told Chris, “I bet you are very popular at your job.”

Chris said, “Yup!”

That type of energy never goes out of style and truly brightened my day, just like he brightens the faces of all the shoppers he knows back home. And Chris helped me as I planned for this tour because he sparked me to think about Ridges in a new way. I knew in advance that Chris would have trouble walking the undulating, uneven, and often steep terrain here. I knew he would have serious trouble viewing what I had to show today’s pair of nature lovers because Chris -- is visually impaired to the point of legal blindness.

It felt like a daunting challenge, for Chris to navigate the trails. And for me to answer the question, “How can I help him “see” the beauty?”

I promised Andee when she booked the tour, I would have a golf cart at the ready to allow Chris the opportunity to travel with us. When I met them near the Tin Man in downtown Hart, I was pleased to see Chris walking just fine down the sidewalk and I knew at first glance he would be game to walk the property.

So, we gave it a go, golf cart be damned, we would hike. And hike, we did. Up hills. Down swales. Along ridges. Over roots. Around stumps. Atop bridges. Through the tall grass. Even across the creek stepping stones (one wet foot did not dampen our spirits one bit).

When the trails toughened, we linked elbows, Chris and I, and traversed them together, like old friends from grade school. And it turns out, it is not so hard to “see the sights” even if our eyes might close or dim the light because our four other senses eagerly absorb the environment.

We felt the bark of cherry, maple, white ash, black walnut, hemlock, beech. We bent over to allow the cool of the stream to rush around our fingers, guessing at the temperature. We cupped our ears to amplify the bubbling of the brook. We smelled the hops’ effervescence in the foaming head of a hard cider. We tasted the tart sweetness of the blackberries in our pie. We tasted, smelled, listened, and felt our way through Ridges.

And Chris is a man who says what he feels. In every movement of this day’s melody I heard Chris sing the chorus of our song. “I love this place,” he said. “Man, I really love this place.”

Me too, buddy. Me too.

You are both welcome back anytime. And we will sense it all again, in a new way.

Andee & Chris hike Front Ridge.

Andee & Chris rest on their way up Northline Trail.

Chris & Andee enjoy some Ridges hostpitality in the Writer's Cabin - Today that means pie!

Chris & Guide Brett feel the black walnut bark.

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Spider Tents

By Brett Ramseyer • June 3, 2026

On morning’s run with trusty hound My eyes scanned miles of forest ground Where only duff and leeks abound No wonderous sights to astound So, in the car and off to town And in the yard the day unwound Until the sun, exhausted, down Met evening’s hike with trusty hound There I, amid the shadows found A new made city all around Leaves and twigs now gossamer gowned Raised spider tents, the forest crowned Gathering spiders duty bound Gaia’s mind spoke command profound Ringed ev’ry hill the forest round Day’s architects without a sound.