Westmoreland Conservationist Saves Land

Edna Sanford Douglas is a born conservationist.  Thrifty by nature, she has from earliest childhood saved things.  One of the first things she saved was words.  Growing up at Tucker Hill, she and her brother, James K. Sanford, compiled a list of endangered dialect words and phrases she heard around that village, at home and at her father's general store and cannery. Later, she helped create The Kinsale Foundation, Inc. and led efforts to preserve open space in the 1706 port town and save some of the town's 19th century buildings.  Along the way she also saved old aerial photographs, topo maps, family pictures, surveyors' plats, and lore related to land she owned and loved.  Now it's all come together, as she fulfills a longstanding goal to ensure that a favorite tract of farm and forest land near Tucker Hill will stay unspoiled forever. "I didn't want it to be cut up, subdivided," she said, to explain why she and her daughter, Margaret Shannon Douglas, recently donated a perpetual conservation easement to the Northern Neck Audubon Society (NNAS) on 152 acres of land they own adjacent to Yeocomico Church.

The process began in April of 1999, when Edna met with Porter Kier, NNAS Conservation Chair, and learned, among other things that the local Audubon Society had a fund of money which could be used to defray survey costs and legal fees for eligible properties.

A walk on her land soon followed and Kier recalls his impressions, "There was a good-sized farm field, and beyond that, a deep fringe of hardwood forest which bordered over a mile of upper Bonum Creek.  The Northern Neck Audubon Society was thrilled to help protect such an environmentally sensitive property."  Negotiating over terms was the next step.  Edna was an active tree farmer and insisted that one more timbering of a certain grove of pine trees be allowed under the terms of the easement.  "I wanted Margaret (her daughter) to be able to cut the pines if she wanted to. The Chapter didn't think much of that.  But they agreed, and wrote it into the easement."

Another hold-up was the lack of a survey.  The property was described in county deed books in terms of adjoining parcels only, "and no one in the family had ever gone to the expense of having a plat made.  I wouldn't have, myself, if the Audubons hadn't offered to pay for it.  Richard Allison and Associates did the work, and it was interesting to see exactly how much land we had, especially on the south side of the stream," Edna said.  Once the survey was completed, Estie Thomas, who was then on the staff of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, drew up the actual deed of conservation easement for the NNAS, modifying a standard document to incorporate Edna's particular requirements, such as the reserved right to timber once in the next 50 years, the right to build one house on a specified part of the land, and an absolute prohibition against hunting quail.

Why did she do this, in essence creating a 152 acre quail sanctuary?  "I've always loved Bob White Quail.  And I'd much rather see one running along the edge of my field than served up on somebody's plate!  I won't allow anybody to hunt them now, and thanks to this easement, quail may safely dwell on my land forever. When you get old, like I am, you start thinking about 'forever'.  It's long time. When we were kids, we roamed all over this land.  It touched, across the stream, the house where we all grew up.  We'd walk the old roads, there was one in particular that people used to reach Yeocomico Church.  That one has historical value and I've tried over the years to keep it open.  We'd go and see the ladyslippers, and smell the arbutus.  Trailing arbutus is just about my favorite wildflower.  It's getting hard to find these days, but I've got some on my land.  And I expect that it will stay there, now that it will remain undisturbed.  This is the way it is."
 
 

Conservation Easements

Are you big enough to save your land?  Can you afford to?  I remember a farmer once saying that anybody who couldn't afford a couple of bad years didn't belong in the farming business.The same goes for saving land.  If you are busy turning every ear of corn into money, and if you look upon the land which may have been in your family for generations as simply so much cash to spend down to the last nickel, then land conservation is not for you.  You don't love your land enough to save it. But,
if you have some big cypress trees, or a lonely ravine, or a stretch of humble marshland that you're determined should remain forever wild, you can make it so.  If you have farmland, or forestland, and wish that it could remain forever a working farm, or a working forest, you can make that so as well.
You can lock it up so tightly that no one will ever be able to develop it.  Use it, yes.  Leave it to heirs, yes.  Sell it, yes.  But develop it, no.  Not now, or ever. Why bother with such radical steps, some might say?  Most working land is not in any danger of development anyway.  Where is the development pressure on 150 acres of farm and forest and wetlands near Tucker Hill?  Think ahead, fifty or a hundred years.  Sprawl is marching down the Northern Neck at about the rate that Rt. 3 is
being 4-laned, and we have, at most, one more generation in which to act.  A day will come when every inch of land in this Northern Neck will feel intense pressure.  The metro area of Fredericksburg now exceeds a quarter of a million people, and they are right on our doorstep.  Our land looks good to refugees from suburbia.  Having soiled their own nest, they swarm our borders, looking for the very things, the pure streams, fresh air, quiet woodlands, and rich farmland that no longer exist where they live. Pockets stuffed with cash, they can and will bid up the price of every acre of buildable land to a level that will approach the value that waterfront property commands today.  Subdivisions will sprout where corn now grows, and where squirrels bury walnuts.  Up will go the "No Trespassing" signs, and the "Private Road" notices.  If you think people complain about deer hunting now, just wait.  You want to see what it will be like here?  Just visit our neighbors across the river in Maryland where the three counties directly opposite us now hold nearly 300,000 people.  The transition, from a farming and seafood-based economy very much like our own, occurred in one generation.The natives of Charles, St. Marys, and Calvert Counties are sick at what's happened to their once-beautiful land, and quite candid in their warnings: it will happen here unless the landowners of the Northern Neck take action.

Conservation easements can save your land without in any way restricting traditional activities such as hunting, farming or timbering, and without restricting in any way your ability to sell your land or leave it to your heirs.  Land under easement remains your private property and is in no way open to the public.  Future home sites may be set aside for family members and division of large tracts may be allowed as long as the parcels average at least 100 acres in size.  Significant federal income tax benefits can accrue if the easement reduces the market value of a piece of land.  Easements can also lower the estate tax due on large tracts and may help keep land together to be passed on to the next generation.  Landowners often dream of being able to prevent undesirable uses of their land from beyond the grave.  The question has always been how to do it?  In practical terms, a conservation easement offers an ironclad legal way to protect cherished land from an uncertain future. The Northern Neck Audubon Society is currently seeking easements in our area, and funds may be available to help with land surveys and closing costs.

For more information contact; Porter Kier, NNAS Conservation chair 804-529-6071, or Tom Teeples, NNAS President, 804-435-0636.