Whilst exploring the various forms of the culture that surrounds nature, nearly all prevalent and discussed attitudes have been positive and relatable from my standpoint. We have talked about nature – land, sea, animals, man, skies – adoringly, admiringly, appreciatively, thankfully, respectfully, curiously, nurturingly, thoughtfully. We have lauded its beauty and lamented its ill health, and we have all shared personal anecdotes of our encounters with it as a wondrous entity worthy of our inquiry. I felt we were challenged to peer over the ideological fence into a territory most of us find foreign in our adventures on Saturday.

The day began in comfortable territory, a gravel parking lot and a welcoming trailhead. The drive up to Hawk Mountain Sanctuary had become more picturesque with each turn we took, and the trees were tall around us as we walked up to the visitor center. However, the marketability of the destination was rapidly evident by the hordes of young boy scouts, families, and teen couples milling about the ticketing desk and gift shop. As we were asked to consider, I took note of the items for sale and the audiences they seemed to target. Being a young white woman from a treehugging family, I felt as though I was probably precisely the target audience. The type of merchandise available mirrored stereotypical interests of women and families. There were earrings, greeting cards, baby onesies and stuffed animals of various woodland critters. There were also practical items like hats and books and weather gear, as well as fair trade coffee and snacks. The goods appealed to an environmentally conscious consumer with an affinity for displaying that status.

It was interesting to note that once we were on the trail and at the cliff’s edge, this merchandise was not seen. The only people I saw with “Hawk Mountain” anything stitched into their apparel were those who worked at the sanctuary. Otherwise we seemed to be surrounded by everyday people with personally unique apparel and a simple affection for large birds of prey. It was here where I felt the cultures surrounding Hawk Mountain divided. At the center and before the viewpoint, visitors were loud and excitable, actively consuming as much information and visual stimuli as possible. Upon the ledge, the atmosphere was calm , unreflective of the cutting winds that brought the beautiful birds nearer and nearer to us. There was an unspoken respect between viewers and a clearly defined language between the veteran birders, and the experience was calming and uniting despite the cold. It felt like a respectful and thoughtful interaction with a nature we all felt at one with, and the juxtaposition of the farmlands on the horizons indicated a  purposefulness in that connection.

Though Hawk Mountain certainly had a tourist-y appeal, it was forgivable compared to what we encountered next at Cabela’s. Upon entering the “World’s Foremost Outfitter” I felt bombarded with camouflage, dead animals, and guns. I had expected it to be large, I had expected it to be absurd, but I had not expected it to be so violent. Following our peaceful and honestly humbling experience with the birders and their beloved subjects on the Hawk Mountain viewpoint, it was especially jarring to be confronted with racks upon racks of weapons and hunting apparel. I now know that if there is an article of clothing to be worn in this world, it is for sale at Cabela’s in some shade of camo.

But that was to be expected, after all, it’s a hunting store in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, land of the deer. What was most striking was the obviously intentional representation of man and nature vs. man in nature. The tendency was certainly to combine the two in a man over nature kind of sense. It would be difficult to say Cabela’s or its shoppers care not at all for the nature they consume, but the image portrayed in the big-game taxidermy and hunting trophy photos mounted on every free swath of wall was that the most important way to interact with nature was to dominate it. There is an underlying vibe of Cabela’s insistence that its consumers have the power to manipulate the nature around them, and that it is their 2nd amendment-given right to do so. The busy gun registration/check-out lines and various incarnations of guns for all ages incorporated this inclusive notion that nature is ours to take.

I am curious whether I would have felt so deeply uncomfortable at Cabela’s had we not just arrived from Hawk Mountain. I am also curious if I would have felt more or less uncomfortable had we not ended our time at Hawk Mountain with the slightly distressing Golden Eagle presentation. My main comparative takeaway between the two destinations was a curiosity about what a frequenter of one place (or similar) would think of the other. Would a Cabela’s enthusiast feel strange at Hawk Mountain? If so, for what reasons? Would they feel compelled to lower the numbers of certain kinds of raptors if they were reported in higher numbers? Would they wish there were snacks available on the trail? Or a history of the largest or otherwise most impressive birds “taken” at the sanctuary before it’s conservation designation? Likewise, would other more Hawk Mountain-y people (like I imagine much of the class would associate as) feel similarly dismissive or uncomfortable about the representation of a nature so deeply manipulated it barely mimics any kind of recognizable reality? Would either of these kinds of people walk away with a broadened perspective on whether their interpretation of the cultures of nature is best or not? I know I will pay more attention to merchandise in “outdoor” and “travel” stores from now on as well as the “information centers” of places of nature worship. I think these things have a lot more to do with our understanding of something that should be so innately ingrained in our culture than they ought to but given that we are at this point in consumer relations to “the great outdoors” I think it is most appropriate to consider how much is the right amount to control nature in our actions-violent or otherwise- and how much is the right amount to allow it to control us- as we wait for birds to fly by.