Small Town, ZooSA

It had only taken me about an hour to get through Lehigh Valley Zoo.  I'd considered it a pleasant enough hour - it let me break up a drive, stretch my legs, and see some animals.  None of them were animals that I hadn't seen before, though a few were fairly uncommon and unfamiliar to me.  This was towards the beginning of this year, and it was my first new facility of 2023.  I already had plans in place to visit several other, larger institutions - for work or for fun - over the next few months, so Lehigh was kind of an afterthought to me.  Enjoyable enough, but maybe not super memorable or exciting.

Now, if I'd actually lived in this town - or in the immediate surroundings - and Lehigh Valley Zoo was "my" zoo growing up, the one I went to regularly, either on field trips or family visits? I'd have loved that little place fiercely.  I'd have dueled to the death any smug blogger who maligned it, or who dared to make a comparison to bigger zoos elsewhere in the region with more impressive exhibits or collections.  

There's a charm in a small town zoo - one which is hours away from another, bigger zoo, one that's tucked away in a city park, or in some former farmland.  Or at least, there can be charm, if they do it right.  A small zoo that focuses on smaller animals in suitable, appropriate habitats, with maybe a small number of the bigger guys as a main attraction, can make for a wonderful visit.  It doesn't matter if the animals featured aren't super rarities, or are species found at tons of other zoos.  If you live in that small town and don't go to the big cities very often, you won't have seen all of those other zoos, so that wallaby, that meerkat, that lemur is just as exotic and fascinating to you as some super-rarity at a megazoo.  Likewise, it can be fun to take a break from the theming - the fake termite mounds and ruined temples and what not, to forget any attempt to transport you to a different world, and just enjoy a serene walk in a shaded, tree-filled park down paved walkways, meandering among the animals.  At a small zoo, there's less rush, less of a feeling that you need to run, as fast as you can, if you're going to see everything.

Especially if you go on a weekday, or outside of the summer, you can have a degree of peace and intimacy and quiet that's hard to replicate at larger zoos.

I did feel that at Lehigh Valley Zoo, where I was the only visitor I saw that day.  I've also felt it at Bergen County Zoo, Salisbury Zoo, Mill Mountain Zoo, Oglebay's Good Zoo, and Brandywine Zoo - though the latter doesn't quite fit, as Wilmington is a bit larger of a town, and is virtually in the suburbs of Philadelphia.

They aren't big.  They aren't flashy.  They don't have as many of the must-see unique animals.  But they can provide excellent habitats for animals that are within their capabilities, and can make meaningful contributions to zoo-based conservation programs that way.  More importantly, they can be places to make memories and establish connections with animals and with nature, far from the madding crowd, as it were.  And moments like that are when conservationists and animal-lovers are born.