It’s time to look back on 2025! Check our blog between Christmas and New Year’s for a variety of stories and memories of 2025 from the staff of the Wildlife Center of Virginia.
I have attended more patient releases in 2025 than in all my previous years at the Center combined.
My first release of 2025 was an eagle release at Belle Isle State Park in March. It was my first time opening the crate, and the moment my hands lifted the latch, my heart raced faster than I expected. Seeing the eagle take off from that close was unforgettable. Then came another eagle release at Belle Isle in July, followed by three in August, three in September, three more in October, and one last eagle release at Lake Anna State Park in November. I also had the chance to release a Red-tailed Hawk at Maymont in front of a crowd of about 175. Thirteen releases in total—a new record for eagles released back into the wild in a single year—and each one more breathtaking than the last.
But none of those were the release I’ll remember most. That distinction goes to a group of nine juvenile opossums, released on June 20 in Augusta County.
The release was part of a special release experience that one of our donors, Susan, won at our Annual Gala. Susan got to choose a species she wanted to release and settled on opossums, hoping to help return a group of young ones back to the wild.
In June, a group of juvenile opossums was ready—nine in total! I met Susan and her husband, Bruce, at a forested area near Sherando Lake, just fifteen minutes down the road from the Center. I had met Susan before, but this was the first time we really had a chance to talk.
“How did you first become involved with the Center?” I asked. I’m always curious what starts someone’s support—maybe an animal they helped, or a story they heard from a friend. I discovered that Susan has been supporting us ever since she received a newsletter from the Center in the early 1990s. (Amazing!)
After chatting a little longer, we found the perfect spot. I gently set the crate on the ground, and we could hear the little opossums moving around inside.
The thing I love about releasing opossums is that it’s not what you’d expect. It isn’t breathtaking. It’s definitely not majestic. They don’t burst out of the crate and dash off into the wild. Instead, it’s clumsy. They’re tentative—slow to leave, sniffing the ground and their surroundings as they try to make sense of their new environment.
After what felt like ages, one of the nine finally built up the courage to step out first.
His “bravery” seemed to inspire the others. Before long, most of them had left the crate and were meandering around. The best part was that we could look around and see all of them at once. Susan, Bruce, and I had fun pointing them out to each other as they explored.
Of course, there’s always one straggler. One of the opossums decided to stay in the crate. After giving him some time, I decided to “encourage” him by gently and slowly tipping the crate (with a few apologies). He finally stepped out, and we watched as he disappeared into the woods. He was the last opossum to vanish from sight, and all nine were officially back where they belonged.
Susan later emailed me, and I saved her message. She wrote, “Getting to watch nine (!) baby opossums go off into the wild was the best time I’ve had in ages ... this is the reward for all that you do—getting to see wildlife going back to being wild.”
That's all the reward I need.
Here's to many more releases in 2026.
--Connor Gillespie, Director of Outreach