There was a nest on the ground up ahead of us on the trail. It was nestled next to a tree and hidden by ferns and flowers, but only a foot or so off of the trail. We tried to sneak up on it quietly so the bird wouldn’t spook and fly away. We got 50 feet away before the bird fled. It flew off before we could see what it was. Mentally, I cursed as we walked up and looked at five white eggs the size of smooth, stained golf balls in a nest scooped out of the duff on the forest floor. While there were some great guesses as to what the bird was based on where it was nesting, how big it was and what the eggs looked like, a good look at it would make it easier.

Nature is like that, stubborn and slow to reveal its secrets. You can live for years in an area and have no idea what is happening outside nearby. The nest was found by my wife and son last spring, while I was at work and my daughter at school. They didn’t notice it at first, but the bird scared them as it flew off the nest when they got close. For the next week, the bird flew off the nest daily as they walked past, revealing a neat pyramid of eggs.

The nest was at a delightful little hiking spot called the Hatch Run Conservation Demonstration Area, where there are miles of trails through forests and fields, up and down hills, past manmade and beaver-made ponds and where something seems to be happening all the time. Located just 3 or 4 miles from Warren, Pennsylvania, on Hatch Run Road, it is the closest and easiest place to hike near our house. We go there a lot.

Day by day and week by week, the bird on the nest got used to our presence and let us get closer and closer before it flew. We were careful not to touch the nest or the area near it for fear of attracting a predator to the smell of peanut butter-and-jelly-laden fingers. Things changed slowly. The eggs were moved around, making different patterns. One disappeared after a couple of weeks, leaving only four. Sometimes, the bird wasn’t there at all, concerning everyone that it might have finally abandoned its nest after dozens of hikers, dog walkers and mountain bikers had passed by. It never did.

The day finally came when my wife and son could walk within 10 feet of the nest and see the bird. They identified it as a ruffed grouse, the state bird of Pennsylvania, using a field guide later that day. We all traipsed down the trail that night, hoping it would let us all get so close. The bird stared at us, giving us that exasperated look that only a put-upon mother can give, but didn’t fly until we were within a dozen feet of the nest. It was definitely a grouse.

We kept hiking the trails at Hatch Run and the ruffed grouse nest became a tradition where we all slowed down together. Voices would sink to whispers and footsteps become slow and soft as we moved closer. Finally, the day came when we could walk right past the nest without scaring the grouse off of it. This was the closest look yet, from just two or three feet away. The next day she was gone, leaving behind some broken egg shells and delightful memories. To this day, the nest and broken egg shells remain next to the trail, by a certain tree that we will not forget anytime soon.

Nature may be unwilling to share her secrets, but when it does, the memories will last a lifetime. We knew there were ruffed grouse at Hatch Run. We had occasionally heard one drumming in the distance in the spring. Once or twice over 10 years, we startled one in the forest that would fly off noisily. Never in my life had I ever seen a nest or expected to get so close to one.

Nature outside your town is not the same as nature on TV. There is no sound track, no lulling British voice, no action sequence of predator and prey. There may be days and weeks where trees and chipmunks are all that is seen. Patience, however, is amply rewarded. The more that you are outside, the more you see.

Hatch Run for us has a mental map of amazing moments. This is where the wood turtle was walking through the Myrtle. That is the small hollow in the log where a red eft spent the day. That tree is where the barred owl nest used to be. We don’t really expect the wood turtle or the red eft to be in those same places again, but some hope that wells deep inside keeps us looking – just in case. A hike outside is like the lottery, you never know what you will be lucky enough to see.

We are not the only ones who hike at Hatch Run. Over the years, we have made casual acquaintance with others who regularly hike there. We know which dogs are full of love and mischief and which ones need to be given some time to be pulled off the trail. We know which dogs are scary looking, but harmless and who like to stop and chat a bit.

People have told us of their sightings of a black bear and her cubs near the parking lot, or a mink running up the creek bed. We haven’t seen those things, but every person sees something different on every hike. For me, seeing a bear and cubs would be like winning the nature lottery. It just hasn’t happened yet. I’ll keep going outside and trying. Someday, I’ll get lucky. You never know what you will get to see.

Jeff Tome is a Naturalist at the Audubon Nature Center at 1600 Riverside Road. Information on their programs, building and trails is available at https//jamestownaudubon.org. The Hatch Run Conservation Demonstration Area is run by the Warren County Conservation District to demonstrate best practices in agriculture, forestry, wildlife and water resources. More information about their trails can be found at www.wcconservation.net/hatch-run-conservation-demonstration-area/. The location of the ruffed grouse nest will, however, remain a secret.