“The garden suggest there might be a place where we can meet nature halfway”.

Pollan’s idea about the balance between our relationship with nature and how when we mow or garden we find are able to fulfill that balance. In both his passages, Pollan points out the evolution of the lawn in America became a staple of society, but now as he suggests we are moving towards a more balanced experience when we garden.

I agree with this sentiment to an extent but I feel like Pollan sort of understated the value of a lawn itself. To me the lawn makes nature something more accessible. Not that it is a fully natural thing, I think lawns offer an easy way to get out. Like we talked about in class, lawns offer an openness that you don’t necessarily get in an unkempt field or wooded area. Lawns can offer a more social environment. Lawns give a place to run around, play a game of football, or just lay out.

I understand that there is an intimacy in gardening and that they might offer more in return than lawns but I’d still rather lounge around on a quad or play a game of wiffleball on a clean cut lawn than in an over grown field or a flowerbed. I don’t disagree that gardens are important but lets not dig up the lawn that can serve a purpose, as well.

“Tourists wanted an image of wilderness, not a realistically dangerous wilderness experience”

So like most millennials I have an Instagram. Now I don’t consider myself an active participant, like I don’t post pictures but I’ll go check out the pictures every once in while. One of the accounts I follow is the U.S. Department of the Interior. The department posts pictures of incredible views advertising National Parks and grand vistas with the slogan “Protecting America’s Great Outdoors and Powering our Futures”.

Seeing a post the other day reminded me of the Byerly piece and how the American view of the nature has been turned into this staged beauty meant to sell these places rather than appreciate their surroundings. This account is selling a product and trying to get people come out and see these same views for themselves.

So while I still enjoy these posts, I might look at the pictures a little differently knowing the potential reason behind them.

Check out the fall colors from #Denali #NationalPark. Termination dust – the first snowfall that sticks to mountain tops and signals that winter is coming – is visible on the Alaska Range in the background. While much of the country is getting its first look at fall colors, these views in #Alaska are only a memory. There, the days are getting shorter and sections of the park road are closed. The white of snow will rule the land until spring’s distant arrival. Photo of @Denali.NPS by Michel Hersen (www.sharetheexperience.org)

A photo posted by U.S. Department of the Interior (@usinterior) on Oct 7, 2015 at 8:26am PDT

How can they call it Badlands when the views are just so good? Badlands National Park in #SouthDakota draws visitors from around the world with its rugged beauty and rich fossil beds. It’s a place to explore the unique landscape while imagining the ancient mammals that once roamed here. #Sunrise is a particularly good time for contemplation and reflection. Photo by Harlan Humphrey (www.sharetheexperience.org) Want to be featured on @USInterior’s account? We’re partnering with @CBSThisMorning to share amazing sunrise photo from America’s national parks and other public lands. Tag your photos with #SunriseThisMorning for a chance to have one of your photos appear on our feeds!

A photo posted by U.S. Department of the Interior (@usinterior) on Oct 8, 2015 at 8:22am PDT

Can you believe this picture from #HawaiiVolcanoes #NationalPark? As water runs into the Halemaʻumaʻu Crater, intense heat from the lava pool quickly turns it into steam, offering a canvas for flames and moonlight to color. It’s an extraordinary sight in a place of natural wonder and cultural importance. The crater’s name translates into “house of eternal flame” and it is known as the home of the goddess Pele, the creator of new land. Photo by Eric Leifer (www.sharetheexperience.org).

A photo posted by U.S. Department of the Interior (@usinterior) on Oct 3, 2015 at 8:25am PDT

I saw something that was pretty interesting to me the other day.. As Autumn approaches we’ll start to see leaves changing colors and began falling from the trees.

Walking by Hugel this past week I saw something that got me thinking. One of the trees had already lost all it’s leaves.

The tree, which I believe to be a Little Leaf Linden (Tilia Cordata) is apparently dying and creating a sad sight along the walk to class in front of Hugel.

I looked up the school’s planning site and found a list which boasts almost 90 different species of trees on campus. The list, which was compiled in 2011, included a brief history of the College’s Arboretum. Beginning in 1840, it used to be tradition for the graduating class to plant a tree at commencement however not formally organized until many years later. About 120 years later, the college made it an initiative to beautify the campus grounds and began to assemble the collection we have today. So while it might be too late for this young Little Leaf Linden, next time you’re walking across campus try to take a moment to appreciate the ecological diversity we have on our hill.

“Men come and go, cities rise and fall, whole civilizations appear and disappear – the earth remains, slightly modified” (219).

This line from Ed Abbey’s, Down the River, references the curse of man and how our own hubris will be our downfall. When we looked at the Thomas Cole’s series of paintings ‘The Course of Civilization’ is was reminded of this quote.

One of the other paintings we looked at was called ‘Manifest Destiny’, which happens to be the name of another painting by Alexis Rockman. The painting, shown below and also named Manifest Destiny, shows an underground city that is being reclaimed by the ocean and ocean life. We traditionally think of Manifest Destiny in terms of American Expansionists in the 19^th century, but in this case we have the Earth and Ocean, reclaiming what mankind took before civilization fell.

The painting is full of symbolism other themes worthy of discussion. There is actually a full size print on display in the Nurture Nature Center in Easton.

“husbandry is degraded with us, and the farmer leads the meanest of lives. He knows Nature but only as a robber”. (180)

This quote from Walden talks about Thoreau’s frustration about the lost art of husbandry and his disappoint in farmers and those who practice husbandry for the purpose of cultivating what they grow for themselves or profit without appreciation for the act of growing it.

“There he passes his days, there he does his work. There, when he meets death, he faces it as he has faced many other evils, with quiet uncomplaining fortitude (77).

This quote is actually by Theodore Roosevelt but is mentioned by Cronin when he begins to define Wilderness in terms of the frontier. I liked this quote because, like Cronin suggests, the frontier is a last, shrinking unclaimed wilderness and freer than any modern civilization. He admires those who went out to frontier to live that admirable life. But I think at the same time those are the same people who began to make it civilized..

“I am reminded of how much citizen science can explore the edges, less constrained by scientific convention, lass afraid to look “unscientific” (149).

This line from Sharman Apt Russell’s Citizen Science, really struck me as an interesting idea. Throughout the book, Russell sort of struggles with the challenges of citizen science and how she must over come the obstacles and precedents set by traditional scientific practices.

Citizen science is less refined, and though, as Russell points out, you might be able to become an expert on any given topic in a week, this is not the reason why people practice citizen science. There isn’t necessarily an intent to become an expert on any given topic but rather an interest shared by others who might wish to observe and practice the same things. They don’t necessarily require being able to name every species of tiger beetle but it doesn’t hurt. The point of citizen science is getting people involved on a level that doesn’t require mastery of a topic but can be done in an afternoons research or weekend hike. This is what gives it the potential to be so great. The freedom that comes with public curiosity is the most powerful tool a citizen scientist has at their disposal.

And at the same time, not being a true scientist allows you to take liberties and try the unconventional.

Today we touched on experiences in nature that made us uncomfortable. Specifically, times when we were no longer at the top of the food chain. I began thinking about other instances when we might find ourselves at the mercy of Mother Nature.

I was reminded of the Annie Dillard piece, Flood, and how it talked about the power and influence of water on our lives. One part talks about a snapping turtle and how, after the storm that caused the flood, there was a snapping turtle being bothered by a group of children with a broom handle. The broom poked the turtle as entertainment for, as Dillard says, “you shove a broom handle near it, and it ‘snaps it like a matchstick. It’s nature’s way; it’s sure-fire’” (156). This idea that there is an expectation of nature when you go into it, but get something totally different. The turtle ends up disappointing the children when it refuses to bite the broom. This paragraph about the snapping turtle is meant to remind the reader that you don’t always get what you expect from nature. In the rest of the piece, Dillard tells the story of a flood that occurs on Tinker Creek. While the creek usually provides a quiet brook for the locals to enjoy, the flood causes mass destruction and reminds us that there are parts of nature we have no control over much like the will of a snapping turtle.

Dillard, also remarks at the end of the piece, however that from the flood came some kind of good, where one of the homes damaged by the flood recovered and took something from the disaster. The flood left behind, at one of the homes not completely destroyed by the flood, a giant mushroom for the owners to enjoy. Dillard says, “the flood left them a gift, a consolation prize, so that for years to come they will be finding …mushrooms” (160). Even while there may be destruction from these floods, life will go on.

I think a flood is like a wild animal, from far away they may be an awesome sight, but they’re not something you want to see at your front door.

Proud Mary, Rolling down the river. I figured I’d jump in on the river song posts while they were still relevant. The song I’m discussing is the Credence Clearwater Revival classic, Proud Mary.

The catchy guitar licks and John Fogerty’s unique vocals talks about getting away from the everyday bustle and taking a step back to slow down, and in this case, take a ride on the river boat Proud Mary.

Big Wheels keep on turning

Proud Mary Keep on burning,

Rolling on the River

The simple point of the song can be seen as message to take the time to step back and appreciate what there is around us. The Proud Mary, and the river for that matter, is going to keep on rolling.

The song reminds me a little of Living Like Weasels, when the lyrics talk about leaving a job in the city and not having seen the good side of it until he left for the river. The song drives home a point that you shouldn’t be wasting your time on something that doesn’t make you happy. The song suggests you should find your meaning in life and in this case the river is the calling. It’s going to keep moving forward and if you aren’t happy with where you are, get on the river and move forward with your life.

Saturday on the kayaking trip, Ian, mentioned that after the canals along the river were shut down they were repurposed and turned into a state park. And again, in class today, two instances of abandoned or repurposed places were brought up. They were brought up during the GORP, where we looked at the abandoned cabins in Elkmont, Tennessee and later someone mentioned that the Bushkill Park site for their multimedia project was also an abandoned amusement park

At the mention of the latter, I remembered another abandoned amusement park that once existed near where I grew up. Forest Park was an amusement park that existed in Chalfont, Pennsylvania, around the corner from where I went to elementary school. The park was existed under various different names throughout the 19^th century but was finally named Forest Park in 1885. The park drew large crowds of people from Philadelphia and New York, who wished to escape the city for da trips. Some of the main attractions including a swimming pond, swam ride and merry-go-round. The park saw it’s peak numbers in the 1940’s post world-war II but admissions began to decline after a race riot in the late 1950’s and eventually shut down in 1968.

I’ve always had an interest in history, especially appreciated local history and on Saturday, when someone mentioned the importance of such things, I was reminded of these kind of places. Places and features changing over time is inevitable and sort of leads us to think of our own mortality. We remember places so distinctly and to think that in 50 years or 100 years they won’t exist anymore is a daunting thought. So to acknowledge and not forget these historic sites is to really pay respect to every one who ever worked, built or enjoyed these places.

Today, besides what is available online, the only standing homage to Forrest Park is some of the concrete slabs from the site. The Park also inspired the names of some of the neighborhoods that were built around the old site.

Today’s kayaking trip was a great opportunity to look back on our readings of Flambaeu from Aldo Leopold and Eisley’s piece, The Flow of the River. We made the transition from society into a calmer more natural setting but still occasionally seeing these signs of civilization. I noticed a house on the hill breaking up the beautiful hillside. Andy mentioned he felt the same way and I joked that whoever lives probably doesn’t like having his view of the river tainted by kayakers.

But once we reached the stretches of pure nature it was a much more humbling experience. I made an effort to keep track of all my senses while I paddle down the river. I made note of the birds flying overhead a cat eating a catfish on the side of bank. But for me, the most interesting thing was when it started raining. The symphony of splashing raindrops falling in the river all around us was almost a sensory overload. The familiar smell of rain was amplified by the river itself and by the millions of raindrops exploding across the entire river. In that moment, we were connected to the river from above and below.