Looking back on our recent trip to the Catskills, I have come to the realization that my entire hiking experience could be outlined based on the birds I saw and heard. It is only recently from my other class in Conservation Biology that I have learned how to amateurishly identify birds, but I find it interesting and important to understand the biodiversity of an area and birds are something very manageable to do. For this reason the rest of my blog post will be a timeline of the birds I saw going along with the flow of the hike and our trip in general, and the corresponding bird pictures .

The first bird I saw and heard was the Gray Catbird. It was during our initial hike up past the elderly hiking group. Right before I began the slight climb up to the group I stopped for a moment and heard a slight murmuring cat sound, looked to where it was coming, and saw two gray/white birds buzzing around the adjacent canopy.

The American crow was the second bird I believe I saw. This is based on the fact I believe it was different than the Raven Professor Brandes later pointed out. I did not sight this bird, but its call it very definitive and its possible I heard more than one while leading the hike up towards the ledges.

As everyone most likely witnessed and remembers, this is the North American Raven that went squawking by us when reminiscing up at the ledges. Its very similar to the American Crow in appearance , but is much larger.

My next sighting was a very memorable one for me personally. It happened when Erik, Tessa, and I plugged on ahead without the rest of the group. When we eventually stopped to think about whether to turn around, we were extremely silent for a few minutes and a downy woodpecker landed on a tree right behind us followed by a pack of 5-6 Black Capped Chickadees. The birds acted as if we weren’t even there; talking, buzzing, squeaking. Even when humans are quiet, it does not always equate to an area being quiet.

On the way back to the vans I heard a definitive Flicker coming from where the transition point was about 0.75mi away from the ledges. I know it was a Flicker… I just know.

The final bird I sighted was the Ovenbird Warbler. I had a hunch it was an ovenbird when I first spotted a brown bolt of movement on the other side of the road where the van was parked. Unlike the other birds, this one was on the ground with a few of its friends and they seemed like the fastest birds I had ever witnessed.

The trip really brought me to a place where I truly got to see some birds. In my previous bird sighting experiences during conservation biology lab, I had really only seen a few woodpeckers, a ton of blue jay, and a very scary, ominous great horned owl. When sighting at Mariton State Park, the site of my labs, I was told many times that it was not optimal bird sighting season, but I guess when you go into the actual wilderness it is always bird sighting season. To me going to the Catskills really clarifies and quantifies the severity of habitat fragmentation that has devastated so many state park areas over the years in terms of biodiversity. Nevertheless, it is still nice to know that there are areas like the Catskills where that is not the problem and so the diversity lives on.

This Sunday, my roommate and I decided to go pumpkin picking. I was in favor of finding a small, organic farm for our outing we opted to join the Lafayette Hillel group to go to Grim’s Orchard & Family Farms. As we pulled up to the farm, I realized this was like no other apple and pumpkin farm I had been to as a child. This was massive, crowded, and much more commercial. Though the farms in New Jersey (such as Alstede Farms in Chester) were quainter, they certainly drew a large crowd on autumn weekends. The large-scale of Grim’s was overwhelming. The shop for kettle corn, ice cream, and cider donuts was long and there was a large barn-like structure where jams, butter spreads, cider donuts, and fall decorations were sold.

rows of cars in the parking lot

how to harvest your apples!

wagons for your bounty

I find it interesting that autumn is the time when people (particularly in the Northeast) are most connected to harvest – autumn conjures images of corn, pumpkins, and apples – mainly taking the form of mazes, jack-o-lanterns, and lattes, donuts, pies or cider, respectively. How did it come to be that the the apple and the pumpkin became the iconic harvest of fall? We use a great deal of land for the production of these goods, yet we do not celebrate nutritious, organically grown produce to the same extent.

Take a look at the difference in the Grim’s website versus the Alstede website. Alstede also advertises organic diary products,  a commitment to “quality of life,” and a variety of vegetables in the today’s harvest section, while grim’s is dedicated to it’s maze, fall festivities and pumpkins. What if celebrating good, nutritious, diverse foods became the norm? How can Americans become more perceptive to seasonal foods instead of the commercial concept of seasons?

http://grimsgreenhouse.com/

http://alstedefarms.com/

As I stood near the cliff I could feel the wind grazing over my nose and I could feel it grazing against my shins. As I stood, I tried to drown out the noises coming from the others standing to my left and to my right. I was standing in wilderness. A designated spot of wilderness, a spot where human impact is supposed to be minimal. And where I was standing, in this designated spot of wilderness, I focused as I attempted to drain out the noises, laughs and comments of others around me.

The view was marvelous. As I looked out it was as if you could see for miles. The mountains stood tall and as I looked they ran continuously. They succession to the horizon line was unbelievable. Spanning from foreground of tress, to the rolling colorful hills of the mountain to silhouette of the blue mountains resting peacefully in the background.  As I continued to observe, I noticed  in the foreground the different clusters of color. As you would look from left to right, from place to place, the distribution of color would vary. You could see bright groups of colorful trees all populated together and then right next to them would be a group of barren trees. This patterned continued for all that I could see. Suddenly, it was back to reality. We were moving on continuing on the path of wilderness to our next destination, the next look out point.

Quotes from Nature Wars:

“Where do most people in the United States live? The answer is just as counterintuitive: They live in the woods… if you draw a line around the largest forested region in the contiguous United States- the one that stretches from the Atlantic Ocean of the Great Plains- you will have drawn a line around nearly two-thirds of America’s forests and two-thirds of the U.S population” (Sterba, 2).

” For many Americans, progress had become a dirty word. Much of the American “wilderness” had been methodically destroyed in the name of progress. Forests of the twenty-first century were being destroyed across swaths of the planet by a human population no more rapacious but far larger than in the past. This, too, was happening in the name of progress” (Sterba, 41).

“Growing populations of wild animals and birds became habituated to life with people or near people. Sprawl became their home. To be sure, many species showed little or no appetite for sprawl, which fragments habitat, disrupts migration and travel patterns, reduces species diversity, and adversely impacts native habitats. For many species, however, sprawl had all the things that they needed to thrive, foremost among them being food, protection and hiding places. Even species known to be people- shy- wild turkey’s and bears, for example- accommodated as their numbers grew” (Sterba, 57).

All,

We will not meet class formerly today and instead, after a busy last week, call today our Catch-Up Monday.

Please use today to advance your work on your Story of Place assignment. Alternately, please catch up on blogging and reading. See you Wednesday for some “Nature Wars.”

Peace,

A&D

“One reason for confusion and conflict is that Americans have become denatured. That is to say, they have forgotten the skills their ancestors acquired to manage an often unruly natural world around them, and they have largely withdrawn from direct contact with that world by spending most of their time indoors, substituting a great deal of real nature with reel nature – edited, packaged, digitized, and piped in electronically.” (Sterba, xv-xvi)

This passage expresses a key concern that has been presented throughout the class so far. People are regarded as separate from nature, and people don’t try to be a part of it. I really enjoyed the “real” and “reel” play on words. It compares true experiences in nature with those presented in images, from photos or movies or anything else people view indoors these days. People enjoy pretty images of nature all the time, but don’t always go out to explore it.

[Describing Cadillac Mountain] “A landscape created by glaciers that advanced and receded for a million years. Like a sculptor with chisels and sandpaper, the glacial ice cut and smoothed bedrock, creating twenty-six mountains of pink granite arranged side by side, north to south, many elongated like baguettes of French bread.” (Sterba, 8)

As a geology lover (and major), this passage stood out as it made me think about geologic processes through geologic time. This transformation of land occurred over a very long time compared to the lifetime perceived by humans. The description paints a beautiful image of how majestic and artistic nature can appear.

I also just found it very interesting that Acadia National Park went through so many different names! One of these names was Lafayette National Park. We often talk about the importance of naming things, and so I thought it pretty cool that this national park once shared the same name as our school.

The last of that stirp, sole survivor of the family. Little did the dusky children think that the puny slip with its two eyes only, which they stuck in the ground of the shadow of the house and daily watered, would root itself so, and outlive them and house itself in the rear that shaded it, and a grown man’s garden and orchard, and tell their story faintly to the lone wanderer a half century after they had grown up and died (Thoreau 286).

This passage from Thoreau made me think of Nick’s earlier post in which he considered the age of the trees he was picking leaves from on the day of our leaf snap ramble. In this chapter Thoreau discusses all the neighbors who once lived there, and the nature near them seems to tell a story.

For a long time he stood still and listened to their music, so sweet to a hunter’s ear, when suddenly the fox appeared, threading the solemn aisles with an easy coursing pace, whose sound was concealed by a sympathetic rustle of leaves, swift and still, keeping the ground, leaving his pursuers far behind; and leaping upon a rock amid the woods, he sat erect and listening, with his back to the hunter. For a moment compassion restrained the latter’s arm; but that was a short-lived mood, and as quick as thought can follow thought his piece was leveled, and whang!- the fox rolling over the rock lay dead on the ground (Thoreau 302).

I found this passage interesting as I feel we have discussed regret following the hunting of animal such as in Leopold’s “Thinking Like a Mountain”. This passage stood out to me as this instance seems strange as the hunter hesistates briefly due to compassion prior to shooting the fox.

The day began with me rushing around as usual. I can never be on time, without needing to run to wherever it is I’m going. I do not enjoy being early because I see being early as wasting time that could otherwise be spent doing something necessary. Being early is unnecessary. But often this leads to me cutting it close in terms of punctuality.

When I am hiking, I typically keep a slower pace. I’m in shape, I love running, and could certainly hike at a faster pace if I found that enjoyable, but I do not. I feel that I get the most out of hiking when I take my time, wander, talk with the people I’m with, and take in all that surrounds me. I enjoy hiking because it is just me, the mountain or trail, and no other commitments. Needing no watch and having no commitments, I can finally be alone with my thoughts or the people I am with. I believe that’s why I have become closest with the people in Outdoors Society. We commitment to hikes and leave everything else behind. You can focus on yourself, the people you are with, and all the sights, sounds, textures, systems, and histories of your surroundings. All too often on a college campus, there is a great lack of community despite our proximity to one another. People constantly surround us but our assignments and extracurricular activities pull us in different directions. Everyone is constantly rushing. It is exhausting for someone like me who struggles to maintain a fast pace is daily activities. I am thankful that we were able to come together as a class to make a conscious effort for connection in the Catskills. More classes should be focused on connecting to place and to one another as a community. How could we possibly neglect such connections in a learning environment? Networking is not the only form of connection we need!

My past experiences with hiking have only been limited by darkness and even in those cases our headlamp accessories reassured us. This experience was different because there was a greater time pressure due to the three-hour drive commitment. Camping in the Catskills certainly would have added to the experience!

Still, as I walked along the trail, I listened to the stories of classmates and professors. I tuned into the sounds and smells of the trail. Ginny pointed out the rhythmic chirp of a squirrel and Professor Brandes spotted a Blue Jay. I was intrigued by fellow students as they applied their lessons in Biology and Conservation bio to our surroundings. I felt truly connected to our group and to our place when we sat for lunch, sharing food, stories, and the view. I enjoy my moments of solitude and they are certainly necessary, but the feeling of connection is beautiful and a feeling for which I yearn.

I am thankful for opportunities that pull my friends and I away from this tangled conveyor belt of activity. We get caught up in work and forget about forming connections. I thank the mountains for the community they provide, for the connections I feel. I know that this feeling of connectedness shouldn’t only be felt in places of wilderness. I strive to have this feeling elsewhere and I know that we must all find ways to make deeper connections a priority (whether it is a connection to one’s self, surroundings, or other people). People must commit even when there is not a trail set for them. Wake up, you sleepers! I feel that I connect with Thoreau with this sentiment.

“It is a surprising and memorable, as well as valuable experience, to be lost in the woods any time…In our most trivial walks, we are constantly, though unconsciously, steering like pilots by certain well-known beacons and headlands, and if we go beyond our usual course we still carry in our minds the bearing of some neighboring cape; and not till we are completely lost, or turned round — for a man needs only to be turned round once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost — do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of nature. Every man has to learn the points of compass again as often as he awakes, whether from sleep or any abstraction. Not till we are lost, in other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations” (Walden, The Village, p. ##).

 “Individuals, like nations, must have suitable broad and natural boundaries, even a considerable neutral ground, between them. I have found it a singular luxury to talk across the pond to a companion on the opposite side. In my house we were so near that we could not begin to hear…but if we speak reservedly and thoughtfully, we want to be farther apart, that all animal heat and moisture may have a chance to evaporate. If we would enjoy the most intimate society with that in each of us which is without, or above, being spoken to, we must not only be silent, but commonly so far apart bodily that we cannot possibly hear each other’s voice in any case” (Walden, Vistors, p. ##)

“I had more visitors while I lived in the woods than at any other period in my life; I mean that I had some. I met several there under more favorable circumstances than I could anywhere else. But fewer came to see me on trivial business. In this respect, my company was winnowed by my mere distance from town. I had withdrawn so far within the great ocean of solitude, into which the rivers of society empty, that for the most part, so far as my needs were concerned, only the finest sediment was deposited around me. Beside, there were wafted to me evidences of unexplored and uncultivated continents on the other side” (Walden, Vistors, p. ##)

I spent a majority of the descent speaking with Ginny about the need to connect and not fall asleep on the conveyor belt (just not using those words at the time). We talked about committing a limited amount of activities on campus and setting aside the necessary personal time and time for friendship. I think of Dillard and her ability to connect with her surroundings as she describes in “Seeing” and “Living Like Weasels,” I hope I can apply this not only when I hike, but in my daily life. I had a similar discussion in my last paper on Nature as Self and Nature as Cathedral. I used Cronon’s ideas of extending spiritual connections and the cathedral concept beyond wilderness to where we live. Where is this feeling of congregation and connection at Lafayette?

On Wednesday Julie and I set out to find some cool leaves. We were armed with the tree map Professor Brandes gave us and my iPhone. However, we quickly learned that neither of these tools were much help. My iPhone was also struggling to download the new app “Leafsnap” so we had to wait around for it to download before we could start out adventure. We tried to use the map to identify trees while the app loaded but, that didn’t work out too well. The map was very general and made it difficult to see which tree we were standing in front of was associated with which red blob on the map.

Eventually Leafsnap loaded onto my phone but we were agin disappointed. It too multiple tries for the software to pull tree species that could be the leaf we snapped and often times when it did load the species name was not on the school map. However, we can’t poorly rate this app too severely. Neither of us knew much about trees so this app did provide us with knowledge that we never would have had otherwise. I walk across campus everyday but I have never stopped to think about whether some of them are invasive, natural or even what type of tree they are. Often I just think about it as pretty or a place for some shade.

This app helped Julie and I understand the tress on our campus. Some of the species we found are below:

Sugar Maple

Red Oak

Saucer Magnolia

Unidentified

Often we complain about the intrusion of technology (especially in terms of outdoor activity) but Leafsnap opens a whole new door to technology and nature. With apps like Leafsnap technology consumers may even look up from their phones and think about the plants that surround them.

“Whichever way we turned, it seemed that the heavens and the earth had met together, since he enhanced the beauty of the landscape. A blue-robed man, whose fittest roof is the overarching sky which reflects his serenity. I do not see how he can never die; Nature cannot spare him.” (Thoreau 292)

This was the last visitor from “Former Inhabitants”, a philosopher who Thoreau admired and praised for his take on life and his role in nature. He seemed to make a great impression on Thoreau and could have even changed his outlook.

“The “forest” we think of today is home to redwoods and spotted owls, or government-designated “wilderness” preserves and national parks. The forest is a long way away, over the horizon, or way up north. Only it isn’t. It’s right outside your window.”

So, is the forest we see today equally as important as the one that existed in the 16th and 17th centuries? Have we lost something or have we gained something? The transformation from forests to farms then back to forests has not been understood by many Americans living today, so what would they say on that fact?

“One of the greatest historical ironies of Mount Desert Island was that its natural beauty was being destroyed as it was being ‘discovered’. Until the mid-nineteenth century, the idea that ‘wilderness’ could be appealing was bizarre to most people” (12). 

“Cities, suburbs, sprawl, and countryside got mixed together. One city’s suburbs bumped into suburbs from the city down the highway, but in between to each side were still a few farms. These areas, such s the one between Chicago and Milwaukee, were dubbed ‘urban corridors’. They fit together, sort of, and they didn’t, sort of. However they fit, they had one thing in common: trees, lots of trees” (50).