“‘Some people want to put the forest back the way it was 200 years ago,’ he says. ‘To do that, I tell them, you’ve got to put the Bronx back the way it was 200 years ago.”

This was a quote from The City Without Us, page 35. It’s pretty straight forward but I thought it highlights an interesting disconnect between environmental consciousness and action. When we talk about  the difference between conservation and preservation, many people think that environmental responsibility revolves around leaving things untouched or returning “nature” to its original state. However, many don’t understand that humans and nature can’t always interact without a give and take. While we want to protect the environment that we live in, we must learn to adapt our own lifestyles in a way that creates a neutral relationship between human and the environment.

I really liked this piece as a whole. Its descriptions of New York City after the extinction of mankind reminded me a lot about the Manifest Destiny painting that we saw at the Nurture Nature Center. I also like the idea of the bridges collapsing and the tunnels flooding, leaving the city stranded as the natural island that is once was.

Should the grass always be greener on the other side… even if it’s in the desert? The piece “Why Mow?” highlights some of America’s obsession with lawns. I won’t lie, I love green grass as much as the next suburban resident, but I’ve never seen a green lawn as a necessity.

However, it seems as if most American’s crave a luscious, green lawn. Even here at Lafayette, we are constantly watering the quad to ensure its health and liveliness. In arid regions like California and Las Vegas, growing suburban neighborhoods are surrounded with unnatural green lawns, which require massive amounts of water that those communities can’t afford to waste. Is green grass really worth all of that water?

While the aesthetic of a green lawn is generally welcomed by the average American, its hard to justify wasteful practices to maintain a colorful space. Our obsession with grass begs the question… how far will we go to maintain our curbside appeal?

Earlier in the semester, we talked about the movement to remove dams across the United States. Originally, dams were built in order to stimulate the economy at the expense of the environment and the ecosystems of the river that was being damed. The movement to “Free the Snake” has helped shed light on how daming a river literally puts a barrier across the idea that rivers connect us. Even though the dams along the Snake are no longer in use, they continue to take their toll on the salmon population that once thrived in the river. I think that these dams are a symbol of the problems that arise when human development gets in the way of natural processes. The attached video explains some of the impacts on the salmon populations that have been caused by the dams along the snake.

P.S. – The documentary “Damnation,” which we watched the trailer for in class, is being shown in Bethlehem next week on October 15th.

Last Thursday, Dr. Weber visited Lafayette to talk about sustainability and environmental consciousness on college campuses. Undoubtedly, a college campus is an important forum for the development of sustainable thinking. Students are often open to embracing new ideas and pushing the boundaries of societal norms. However, how does this new generation of “green” thinkers carry their newfound passion for the environment into the professional world upon graduation.

While millennials are increasingly involved in environmental advocacy, Generation X and the Baby Boomers still dominate the corporate world and thus, dominate the decision making behind some of the most environmentally destructive actions and tendencies.

As an economics and environmental studies double major, I’m interested in exploring the relationship between business and the environment. This past summer, I interned for a large investment company. Typically, the finance industry rarely acknowledges environmentalism or sustainability. In fact, hundreds of billions of dollars are invested in industries that contribute greatly to some of the biggest environmental problems. However, this can change. During my internship, I had the opportunity to meet with the company’s sustainability coordinator. While much of our conversation centered around the company’s commitment to increasing environmental awareness internally, we also talked about the potential for an increased focus on “sustainable investing.”

Sustainable investing is the introduction of environmental consciousness into asset management. Ideally, this concept would focus on a set of sustainability requirements or environmental standards that a company must meet before they are invested in. As the second largest mutual fund company in the country, with almost $2 trillion assets under management, the company that I worked for has the ability to influence countless companies and investors across various industries. The reality of the corporate world is that “money talks.” Unlike government legislation which is often highly contested and lobbied, sustainable investing has the ability to directly influence companies to readjust their sustainable thinking. If certain standards must be met to receive funding, then asset management firms around the world have the ability to change the way different industries think about the environment.

Sustainability today is more than recycling and turning the lights off. If we are to truly make a difference in our environment, we must think bigger. While sustainability on college campuses is incredibly valuable, I am equally excited by the sustainable thinking that is taking place in the corporate world. As more millennials enter the work force in the coming years, I hope that an increased passion for the environment will continue to take its place in all professional environments.

On the heels of our second response paper about rivers, I continue to be interested by the question of how rivers connect us. In our story of place, Tory, Owen, and I are examining the role of the Bushkill Creek in the greater College Hill area’s history. In our early research, we have found that periodic flooding has had an impact on our site and the surrounding area.

On Sunday, I went down to the dam behind The Spot to get some preliminary footage of the river’s flow. Although I wasn’t there long (as I didn’t want to disturb the sleeping man), I was able to capture the flow what seemed to be a relatively tame creek. Today, the flow of the Bushkill was dramatically different. After last night’s rain, the water level was significantly higher and the suspended load in the water was much more substantial. While the creek was nowhere near flood level, I was surprised to see the dramatic change that one night of rain could have on the stage of the creek. With rain in the forecast for the next few days, I am interested to see how much higher the creek gets. While it would be unfortunate to see any amount of flooding, it would be an awesome connection to our story to see the creek top its banks while we are studying its history of flooding.

“If the core problem of wilderness is that it distances us too much from the very things it teaches us to value, then the question we must ask is what it can tell us about home, the place where we actually live. How can we take the positive values we associate with wilderness and bring them closer to home?” (87)

I like this passage from Cronon because it contradicts my definition of wilderness. It is thought provoking in the sense that it calls attention to climate change and societies’ impact on the environment. How can we hold wilderness as the gold standard if we can’t live in it?

“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 a completely lost, or turned round, – for a man need 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.” (186)

I think this quote is mirrors what Cronon was saying. In Thourea’s time, he was living with the Wilderness. However, he believed that the common man could get lost in the wilderness, easily straying off the path and becoming confused by different surroundings.

Tonight, the first supermoon eclipse since 1982 is set to occur. It is pretty cloudy out today, but keep your fingers crossed and look at your window at 8:11pm.

http://www.nbcnews.com/science/space/watch-sundays-supermoon-total-lunar-eclipse-or-wait-until-2033-n433866

http://www.pc-tablet.co.in/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Lunar-Eclipse-moon-22921626-1024-768-1024×576.jpg

Like Tory and many others in our class, I am a longtime fan of the tiny homes movement. Since first learning about them a few years back, I’ve always had a bucket list goal of giving it all up and living somewhere for the place rather than the possessions.

While I love the idea of tiny homes, I also value the concept of nomadic living. Although I’ve blogged about it before, I’ve never felt more connected to the road then when I was on a road trip across the US after freshman year. I think that a road trip emphatically symbolized the concept of a home on wheels. You are moving from place to place not to live, but to explore.

While camping in Yellowstone National Park, my friends and I came across a very friendly Santa Claus lookalike and his wife at the campsite next to us. They didn’t have a tent or an RV, but what they called a sports mobile. Sports mobiles are a variation of a DIY camper that is crammed into a small van (almost like the modern day VW equivalent). Just like the tiny homes movement, these converted vans have gained huge amounts of popularity amongst today’s adventure seeking community. These vans afford the amenities of a tiny house in an even smaller, yet incredibly mobile manor.

The coolest part about the sports mobiles is their ability to get off the “beaten path.” Unlike a typical RV, they can climb over rocks or press through the snow just like any SUV. When we asked our campsite neighbors about their plans with the van and where they were headed, they simply replied, “Up to Alaska until the roads end.” They wouldn’t once stop in a hotel or probably even a city for that matter. All they needed was their tiny home on wheels and the view out of the windshield.

I’d love to build my own sports mobile some day. Having the ability to roam free and focus on whats around you rather than normal suburbia would be liberating.

Over the past week, we’ve decided to focus of our project on the impacts of flooding on the area surrounding the Bushkill Creek and the greater Easton area. On Thursday we plan on going to the Nurture Nature Center to try to gather as much information as we can about the history of flooding in the city and what sort of public education the Center currently provides. The Center, which was founded in 2007, offers various programs on environmental risks for the general public. We think this would be valuable to get an idea of what the public perception is about flooding and the risks that people may or may not be aware of when they live so close the water. After some further research on the Williams Arts Campus, which is in the 100 year – flood plain, we were able to find some the of the plans for the project. We want to look further into why the college would build in a flood plain if you know the risk and what precautions they take. We plan on reaching out to Prof. Mary Wilford-Hunt, the schools architect, for additional information.

In addition to this, we looked into what used to exist on these sites in the past and perhaps try to find out what happened to those place. We used what photos we were able to find online as well as the Sanborn Maps of Easton from around 100 years ago to investigate what used to be in this area. Specifically, we are interested in examining why there used to be two streams the flowed under the North 3rd street bridge. Attached are some of the photos and maps we found:

A map of the North 3rd Street area, circa 1919

Our goal is to compare flooding to development in the area. Does periodic flooding have anything to do with the redevelopment of the space? Is architecture in the area focused around flooding? What companies or buildings have occupied the space over time and how were they effected by flooding? Separately, when did Lafayette begin to take control of the space? Who used to live there and were they forced out by the college? These are just a few of the questions that we are looking forward to exploring throughout this project.

On Friday, I took a trip up to Gollub Park on the ridge to the North of campus. I didn’t have much of a plan and didn’t know anything about the area other than the views of the Delaware that Professor Brandes mentioned in class.

When I arrived at the entrance to the park, I was surprised to find dense forest that seemed to extend entirely down the ridge on both sides. I wandered along the trail for 10 minutes or so before coming to the fork in the trail. I still hadn’t found any great views, but decided to take the downstream path which seemed to slope down towards the river. After 20 more minutes of wooded trail, I was getting frustrated that I couldn’t really see the river… and then I stopped. Once I took a moment to examine my surroundings, I realized that for the first time all week, everything around me was almost completely silent. I could even hear the leaves rustling as the breeze drifted through the trees. It was an incredibly peaceful moment.

At some point, about 25 minutes in, I decided to turn back towards the fork in the trail. When I reached the intersection, I continued straight. I only had to hike another hundred yards or so before I encountered a large outcropping of rocks that looked out over the Delaware. It was awesome!

I hadn’t known where I was going, but throughout my walk in the woods, I felt at ease. As we talked about on our kayaking trip, there is a sense of freedom that many of us feel when we get off campus and into nature.

Inspired by my experience getting “lost” in Gollub Park, I decided to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring. When I got back to my car (sorry, I drove there), I decided that I was going to take a right down the backside of the ridge and away from Lafayette. With no plan and a minimal sense of direction, I drove what seemed to be North for about 30 minutes. For miles, I passed nothing but corn fields, glimmering in the golden afternoon light. I had never been to this area, but just like Gollub Park, I found it to be naturally beautiful and free of the hustle and bustle of the Easton area.

When the sun started to set, I pulled out my phone for the first time in hours. “Siri, take me to Lafayette College,” I said.