By ANN LANDI
Tupper Lake, N.Y.
At the Wild Center, deep in the heart of the Adirondacks of upstate New York, it's not unusual to see a curator wandering the premises with a raven perched on his forearm. In the galleries surrounding a soaring central court, you'll hear peeps, screeches and birdcalls -- both simulated and real -- typical of the forests and streams of this sprawling wilderness. And if you sit down to lunch in the center's café, you'll be at water level with a man-made pond and might even catch sight of a graceful egret or paddling painted turtle.
The 54,000-square-foot main building of the Wild Center was designed to celebrate and explicate the natural wonders of Adirondack Park, an area encompassing more than 9,000 square miles, making it larger than the state of Vermont or five major national parks combined. To early European settlers, this irregular jumble of lakes, rivers and mountains was largely an impenetrable wilderness; even the Native Americans skirted the region, calling the few who lived in the area Ratirontaks, or "tree eaters," perhaps because they were such inept hunters.
Eventually, logging laid waste to the perimeter lands of the Adirondacks, and big animals prized for their fur -- beavers, moose, otters and mountain lions -- disappeared or were seriously threatened. In 1892 conservationists stepped in to protect the area's resources, and, in the years since, the forest has recovered and many species have returned. It's a rare model of man coexisting with nature, since many communities and private lands can be found within the park's boundaries.
The Wild Center
The Wild Center and its 31-acre campus, originally known by the stiffer name of the Natural History Museum of the Adirondacks, took about eight years from conception to completion in 2006. The museum was the brainchild of Elizabeth M. Lowe, who worked in public affairs for the state's department of conservation and whose family had deep roots in the area. An initial fund-raising effort among friends eventually led to $30 million in donations, about a third of it from government sources, and earned an environmental seal of approval from the U.S. Green Building Council. The project tapped the most sophisticated architectural talents, including HOK, the firm that designed the National Air and Space Museum in Washington.
But it's the critters and exhibits that fascinate. Visitors enter through the Big Wolf Great Hall, a nine-sided space lined with stands of white birch. The introductory Glacial Wall tells the story of how glaciers carved out the region at the end of the last ice age. "The glacier is just a big dirty snowball," says Stephanie Ratcliffe, executive director of the Wild Center and my docent for much of the afternoon. "One of the things people find hard to believe is that the ice was two miles thick. Imagine the weight and the pressure."
Next comes the Living River Trail, starting with a trout pool populated by fish, serenely floating wood ducks, turtles and other peskier species such as "giant toe biters" (water bugs). Here, as throughout the museum, the exhibits offer a chance to touch, hear and smell. A keyboard makes different animal sounds, from frog croaks to the mournful vibrato of a loon. Bend your face close to a "sniff board" and you can get a whiff of the different boggy aromas of the marsh. (A similar contraption at another exhibit lets you inhale the essence of Adirondack mammals as well.)
The trail continues through fish pools filled with local species and displays of what they feed on. One instructive panel shows a model of a fish brain next to that of a human. "This is one of our little jokes," says Ms. Ratcliffe. "Notice the difference in size, but probably 11,000 books have been written by one on how to catch the other."
A series of galleries presents the smaller creatures of the Adirondacks, reptiles and amphibians, and the rich plant life that thrives on the forest floor. You can learn about the insidious ways of the pitcher plant, step on cushions that simulate the feel of a bog, or dip your hands in a shallow tank holding rocks and tiny fish. In the Find Out Forest, a large interior court, there is an almost bewildering array of short videos on separate screens; these might track an immigrant moose, explain how deer survive the winter, or take you on a raft trip through the Hudson Gorges.
Undoubtedly the high point of the Wild Center museum is the plunge pool where otters cavort around a miniwaterfall, diving into the water, swimming at lightning speed, and to this eye at least doing their thing with full awareness of a rapt audience. At feeding time in midafternoon the sleek little show-offs tuck into "bloodsicles," a frozen mixture of fish parts and water.
Outside the building is another habitat for the otters and generous cages for two ravens and a lone porcupine, all of which were found as "orphans" and given a new home. An exhibit about solar power explains where the center gets 10% of its electricity, and the green roof on an outbuilding offers a living experiment in further conserving energy. A network of trails around the pond and into the forest leads past a children's play area and a bird blind, down to an oxbow in the Racquette River where an overlook affords stunning views of mountains, sky and water.
"We're part aquarium, part natural history museum and part science center," Ms. Ratcliffe explains at one point during my visit. Needless to say, the place is extremely child-friendly, with a separate kids' playroom and plenty of interactive exhibits for small fingers.
It's a lot to take in at once -- the average visit lasts about three hours. But you'll want to linger in this glorious place, only a six-hour drive from New York City.
Ms. Landi writes on culture and the arts.Printed in The Wall Street Journal, page D9