It is 8:55 on a beautiful, sun-dappled Tuesday morning in Southwest Atlanta.
In the hush of morning light, a group of Black women — ranging from their 50s to their 80s — gather in a circle to stretch, pray and give praise reports.
When 79-year-old Lillie Jackson announces she recently completed a 10K in under two hours, the group erupts in cheers.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Sylvia Cook, a retired educator, arrives late and parks her car while the women go through calisthenics.
Cook, who would only admit that she is “in my 80s,” jogs from the parking lot to the circle, where the group welcomes her with cheers.
With both of them in place, they all sing their song.
“Morning comes, we‘re on our way/ Nature Gurlz, Nature Gurlz.
First we pray and then we stretch/ Nature Gurlz, Nature Gurlz.
Gaining strength to do our best/ Nature Gurlz.
We support each other, we are winning as we walk/ Our health is what we care about — don’t let it be your fault. No. No. No.
We love walking every day/ Nature Gurlz, Nature Gurlz.
Morning comes, we‘re on our way/ Nature Gurlz, Nature Gurlz.”
Meet the Nature Gurlz.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Keep moving
What began as two friends walking through Cascade Springs Nature Preserve during the COVID-19 lockdown in 2020 has blossomed into a thriving sisterhood of more than 100 women.
Each weekday — rain or shine — 25 to 30 of them hike through the 135-acre forest nestled in Southwest Atlanta’s historic Cascade neighborhood.
Most hail from Southwest Atlanta and the city’s West Side.
They walk for sisterhood, peace of mind and community outreach — all of which benefit their mental acuity and physical well-being.
“Start with childbearing. Black women are at the highest risk of death. Then, we have to deal with hypertension, high cholesterol and heart disease,” said Merchuria Williams, a 78-year-old retired Atlanta Public Schools library director. “We’re beautiful women with a lot to give to the community and the world, so we need to take care of our temples. I am a senior citizen, but I can move and I plan to move and keep my mind until I get out of here.”
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Eden in Cascade
At 9 a.m. sharp, the hikers begin to make their way into the preserve.
From a distance, it looks like most of them are carrying canes. But upon closer inspection, they are all carrying hiking poles — either fancy ones from outdoors shops or handcrafted from old tree limbs.
Some, like Teresa L. Graves — a 69-year-old actress — carry two. She had a bilateral hip replacement and uses them to keep her balance and work her arms.
She hikes every morning.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
“Because the connection is so powerful,” Graves said. “I’ll be 70 in June, and I’m walking with women who are in their 80s who are trying to stay healthy. We even exchange recipes.”
They move at their own pace, chatting in pairs and trios.
First, they make their way to the Cascade Springs waterfall.
There, Sherry B. Williams, a 66-year-old public policy and civic engagement consultant, pauses to deliver an impromptu briefing on statewide efforts to purge Georgia’s voter rolls.
“They are coming after us,” Williams said, as the group nodded in agreement.
The waterfall, lush and Edenic, doubles as a photo backdrop.
Susan Ross, a well-connected city operative and one of Atlanta’s most prolific local photographers, quickly gets the women in formation. She takes several photos, including her trademark selfies.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
At the waterfall, the group splits based on varying levels of mobility. Some hike a 2.5-mile lowland loop, while a smaller group climbs the steeper, 3-mile hilly terrain.
Cascade Springs is easy to overlook, tucked into one of Atlanta’s oldest and most affluent neighborhoods. But this patch of old-growth forest, largely untouched since before European settlement, hums with wildlife and biological diversity.
It’s a remnant of the original forest that was in Atlanta some 200 years ago. In 1864, the land witnessed the bloody Battle of Utoy Creek, one of Atlanta’s lesser-known Civil War clashes.
Today, as it has been for centuries, the small, picturesque waterfall cascades into a stretch of Utoy Creek strewed with moss-covered boulders. The moist, hardwood forest, with its rich and fertile soil, is perfect for the many big-leaf magnolias that share space with American beech, tulip poplar, Southern sugar maple and Northern red oak.
When a tree falls, it stays. Nothing is wasted.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
“It reminds me of Central Park in New York — where you‘re in the middle of the city but you can still hear the birds and you can hear the sirens,” founding member Cecilia Houston-Torrence said. “It’s our little sanctuary.”
That is what she fell in love with.
In the early days of the COVID pandemic, Houston-Torrence, 66, was stir-crazy and anxious.
“We were confined to our homes, and one of the things we all quickly realized is that we are all social beings,” Houston-Torrence said. “We needed to get out.”
On April 15, 2020, on the recommendation of a neighbor, Houston-Torrence and friend Donna Watts-Nunn, managing director of the Hammonds House Museum, walked through the preserve.
Houston-Torrence knew of the preserve but never gave it much thought.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
“We walked here, just the two of us, and we were just shocked,” Houston-Torrence said. “I fell in love with it.”
Houston-Torrence began calling all her friends to join. They came — some still masked, many unsure. But the group continued to grow.
There are no dues. No membership cards. A few men even join from time to time.
“One of the things we realized is, regardless of how we feel when we get here, we feel better when we leave,” said Houston-Torrence. A former tennis player, she has lost a considerable amount of weight from her daily walks. “We didn’t realize the benefits of just being outside taking in the fresh air.”
Most of the women are retired, which affords them the time to hike every morning. But retirement hasn’t slowed them down. They are deeply involved in civic life, their churches and their neighborhoods.
They are educators, college professors, bankers, media figures, lawyers, doctors, foundation presidents, entertainers, government workers and elected officials.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Most are graduates of HBCUs or were among the first generation of students to attend their respective predominantly white colleges. They are powerful, connected and engaged.
In a city sometimes obsessed with television’s version of “Real Housewives,” these women are the real deal.
“But we all have husbands,” quipped Houston-Torrence, a retired banker and graduate of Georgia Tech.
Cook joined the group at the urging of Ross, a longtime friend.
Ross and Cook’s family and doctors wanted to keep her moving after the death of her husband, Samuel DuBois Cook, a former college roommate of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and a longtime president of Dillard University in New Orleans.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
“There is a lot of deep spirituality in what we do. We exercise and pray to God, nature, good health and friendship,” said Cook, an Atlanta native who walks daily with two hiking sticks. “The thing I like the most is that it is not a club or a clique. It is just friendship. It doesn’t matter who you are. Anybody can come and be embraced.”
A long line of walkers, many of them paired up, make their way through the park. The tree canopy cools them and hides the deer and rabbits they quietly watch for.
Most are wearing blue T-shirts with gold “Nature Gurlz” script.
One woman, nearly unrecognizable under a black T-shirt, pink camouflage jacket, sweater and a London baseball cap, is former Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
“I love the outdoors. Being outdoors is spiritual,” said Franklin, who has lived in the neighborhood for 53 years. “But out here, I am just one of the walkers. I am not a leader and I really like that. My opinion isn’t asked for.”
Franklin has been with the Nature Gurlz since the beginning and walks at least twice a week. In March, when a city park was named after her, Houston-Torrence sat on the dais among all of the politicians and donors to represent and speak on behalf of the Nature Gurlz, a signal that they have caught the attention of local politicians.
Atlanta City Council members Marci Overstreet and Andrea Boone are Nature Gurlz. Former gubernatorial candidate Stacey Abrams has hiked with them.
During the last city election, nearly every major candidate — including current Mayor Andre Dickens — showed up to hike with them.
“Not every candidate who came won,” said Houston-Torrence, calling the members “Super Voters.” “But every candidate that won came.”
Nationally, Black women represent the country’s most reliable voting bloc — 92% of them voted for Democrat Kamala Harris in the 2024 presidential election.
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Locally, the Nature Gurlz show up — in matching shirts — at voter registration drives, Atlanta City Council meetings and Fulton County Commission sessions. Their presence at the preserve is credited with recent upgrades, including a new plaza, a Radcliffe Bailey sculpture and the installation of security cameras.
Now, they’re lobbying for a public bathroom.
“This is an organized group of women who are civically engaged, informed and have a broad reach,” said Franklin, who was elected as Atlanta’s first female mayor in 2001, largely with the support of Black women. “Everyone here has a network of colleagues, former colleagues, neighbors, church members and family. So it becomes an important part of telling your story if you’re running for office.”
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
Credit: Jason Getz / Jason.Getz@ajc.com
At about 10:30 a.m., the groups come together to walk back to the plaza. More photos are taken and bottles of cold water await them.
Someone spots a deer at the creek — but it slips away before everyone sees.
“This is so therapeutic. Do you hear the birds singing?” Williams asks. “Black women need to stop and take a breath, and this allows us the opportunity to regroup, refresh and reconnect with our friends. Right here in the heart of the city.”
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