As Vanessa Dayton walked through the woods in a Bryn Mawr neighborhood she hopes to someday call home, a group of bundled-up children led by teachers trundled over the horizon on a nearby hill, navigating their way through rocks and branches.
They’re just the sort of schoolchildren Dayton hopes to someday invite to the house she plans to build in the woodsy area called Anwatin Woods, some of which was used by the city for decades to dump construction debris. She bought the equivalent of eight city lots in August with plans for a sustainable urban farmstead with gardens and honeybees, a pond with ducks and maybe a small barn for chickens. She envisioned using it as a demonstration farm for kids.
Then the neighbors learned that someone had bought up the woods where they walk dogs, ride bikes and take shortcuts to school.
Since then, there have been allegations of threats, destroyed “no trespassing” signs and angry confrontations.
There are signs of strife in Anwatin Woods: At the north entrance, a sign pinned on a tree says, “If you are interested in the effort to preserve this land as an Environmental Learning Center, please visit www.SaveAnwatinWoods.org.” Although the website did not appear to be working recently, Save Anwatin Woods is a neighborhood advocacy group that has advocated for using some of the woods as an environmental learning lab for schools.
A few steps away, a homemade “welcome” sign beckons walkers to use a rerouted trail near construction fencing Dayton has erected around two lots on which she plans to build a house. The fence cut off part of the trail, so residents created a new path around it.
A few steps farther, a series of small signs dot the side of a trail, designating the area as the “Anwatin-Bryn Mawr School Forest.”
Another sign says, “Welcome to Paapaase Plains home of Minneapolis Nature Preschool.” A series of small green signs on the hillside explain how for years the trail was known as Woodpecker Way and children called the surrounding area the “the danger zone” or “the concrete jungle” because of the construction debris, much of which the city recently hauled away. One sign bemoaned the “boring” space left behind.