Written by Ceci Kimball | August 2026
Summer is a brief encounter. While of course, what else would a season be? Classifying summer as fleeting empowers each moment to be remembered. I’ve always categorized this time of year by the street festivals, farmer’s markets, and long lines at the local ice cream shop, but I think the true wonder of the season is felt through the small interactions that make the months of June, July, and August utterly unique and exceptional. This is something Nature At The Confluence would teach me.
I approached my time as the summer AmeriCorps Environmental Educator the same way you’d approach an all-you-can-eat buffet on an empty stomach: I wanted a piece of everything. The drum circles, field trips, city council meetings, tabling at the Beloit Farmers Market — my eyes widened at every chance to be involved.
Traveling from Chicago, I was drawn to the local, community-driven mission of the nature center. I had come from a background of park districts, nature preschools, and Great Lakes ecology work, and I knew my summer at The Confluence would be a new opportunity in the same environmental space I had come to love.
However, in reflection of my AmeriCorps experience, I’ve realized that I have not only learned to appreciate these short-lived seasonalities, I’ve started to view summer differently.
Summer speaks loudest to me now when I see the smiles of elementary schoolers trying new vegetables in the garden, when I feel the dirt on my hands after two hours at a volunteer workday, or when I witness the peak blooms of pale purple coneflower and milkweed scattered throughout the prairie. The season seems less like a mad rush to capitalize on the warmest days of the year and more similar to a scavenger hunt, seeking out these beautiful, ephemeral moments.
Ultimately, I’m leaving with a lust for summer only satiated by not only interacting with the community, but feeling like I belong in it.
I accomplished (almost) all I set out to finish. I cleaned up Kelly Creek from countless pieces of trash, I wrote blog posts on the prairie, designed informative education materials, streamlined onboarding and field trip agreements, and led my own monarch monitoring program. I left The Confluence full. Full of pride and accomplishment in being a part of the organization’s history, but also in how meaningfully I got to spend those busy summer months.
And with planned expansions to the surrounding acreage, an upcoming installation for a new nature play area, and the never-ending work of invasive plant removal: there is still more work to be done. Although I am overwhelmingly satisfied with how I spent my summer at Nature At The Confluence, I’m looking forward to the next seasonal intern to start viewing their summer differently after engaging in the inspiring work happening where Turtle Creek meets the Rock River.
