As a child I loved walking up the street to the church on Fitzhugh Creek. Henrico County was not known for its parks in the 1960s and that was the closest parklike place to my home. At the church, I collected leaves and walked along the stream with Momma. I was not allowed to play in the water because it was not clean. The wooded area that ran beside the creek was hedged between Horsepen Road and the church on Grace Street. It was less than one half block long, at best a postage stamp - a pocket park of sorts. The size of the space did not matter. This was where I collected fall leaves that were carefully pressed between the pages of the Britannica Encyclopedia or layered between two pieces of wax paper pressed with the iron so we could take them to school.  This process of walking along the creek, collecting leaves and pressing them was how Momma taught me the names of plants and trees. She nurtured my love of nature in a city environment. It is where my love began for the outdoors an