“The earth is not a mere fragment of dead history, stratum upon stratum like the leaves of a book, to be studied by geologists and antiquaries chiefly, but living poetry like the leaves of a tree, which precede flowers and fruit, -not a fossil earth, but a living earth; compared with whose great central life all animal and vegetable life is merely parasitic” (Walden 334). 

This is a concrete, explicit statement of a concept that has been implied in the rest of the book. In my opinion, it is one of the more meaningful take-aways from Walden because it is easy to forget about that which lies under grass, trees, and bodies of water and anyone who wishes to understand the environment must also understand and appreciate the dynamism of underground. It also includes an interesting and somewhat aggravating note that animal and vegetable life is “parasitic.” This seems to contrast with much of the rest of the book because Thoreau overwhelmingly describes the plants and animals around him as positive forces. The word “parasitic” implies just the opposite.

“The naming of things is a useful mnemonic device, enabling us to distinguish and utilize and remember what otherwise might remain an undifferentiated sensory blur, but I don’t think names tell us much of character, essence, meaning” (Abbey 50). 

Abbey concisely describes his opinion about a concept with which I have been wrestling for quite some time. After much thinking and reading, this is essentially the conclusion that I have adopted. I’m glad this opinion has Abbey’s endorsement.

I mentioned this earlier in class, but here is the video if anyone needs a laugh. Basically, there’s a woman who is convinced that if we just move the deer crossing signs the deer will be diverted to those places….. People are really stupid sometimes.

The 60 Minutes Video

I had to watch this video for my Environmental Economics class and found it to be incredibly relevant to our class as well. In short, there are ranches in Texas that breed various species of large exotic animals that are endangered or extinct in their native homes (usually somewhere in Africa). However, the ranchers aren’t doing this just out of altruism. They make a profit by allowing hunters to come to their ranch and hunt these animals. The price tag is steep, but many people will pay it to be able to hunt such rare species.

The ranchers, and even a conservation expert, argue that unless there is a profit motive to keep these species alive and well, they will go extinct. When you look at the numbers, this method actually seems to have worked. However, this method raises enormous moral dilemmas that have caused many a lawsuit against these ranchers.

I’m curious to hear what you guys think about this program.

“At the heart of the North American model was the idea that wild birds and animals could not be privatized. They should be held in public trust for the benefit of all citizens, not special interest, managed by government as renewable resources, and harvested sustainably or otherwise enjoyed with equal access by all on public lands. This idea evolved out of court cases, state laws, and, eventually federal laws. The court cases placed the welfare of most wildlife in the hands of states to manage; migratory birds later became subjects to an international treaty under federal jurisdiction”  (Sterba 95). 

At the heart of this passage is the dilemma that we can blame for the deer problem in the US. Times of low deer populations stemmed from the fact that no one could exclude others from hunting deer because of the “public” nature of their ownership. Times of high deer populations (such as the one we’re currently in) stem from the public’s misunderstanding of the costs and benefits of allowing deer populations to get out of hand due to the moral implications of trying to prevent or solve that problem. This problem occurs because what the government does with wild animals is, ultimately, up to the citizens who are willing to fight for what they want.

“They were his standards in all except the shooting. He had his own standards about the killing and they could live up to them or get someone else to hunt them. He knew, too, that they all respected him for this. This Macomber was an odd one though. Damned if he wasn’t. Now the wife. Well, the wife. Yes, the wife. Hm, the wife. Well he’d dropped all that. He looked around at them. Macomber sat grim and furious. Margot smiled at him. She looked younger today, more innocent and fresher and not so professionally beautiful. What’s in her heart God knows, Wilson thought. She hadn’t talked much last night. At that it was a pleasure to see her” (Hemingway 2021). 

This entire short story makes my skin crawl with the blatant and unapologetic sexism displayed by the male characters. This passage seals it all up in the most frustrating way where the narrator explains Wilson’s internal thoughts in the moment. This passage concretely associates the professional hunter with the idea that women are similar to wild game. They must be considered only for their physical value. In the preceding paragraph, it is explained that Wilson keeps a large cot for the explicit purpose of hunting the wives of his clients as well as the animals.

“While the total amount of lumber and fuel wood consumed continued to rise with population growth until the peak year of 1906, per capita lumber consumption had by then already begun to drop. Growing use of coal, oil, natural gas, and electricity reduced demand for wood as fuel. Also, aluminum, steel, and, later, plastics began to be substituted for wood in building construction” (Sterba 39). 

I would like to take this passage, as well as other statistics about this fuel transition, and shove it in the faces of those who doubt that our economy can transition away from fossil fuels. In the early 1900’s, people & the market realized that wood was becoming a scarce resource and that other, more sustainable technologies had the potential to direct us away from depleting a scarce resource. Sound familiar???

“The hares were very familiar. One had her form under my house all winter, separated from me only by the flooring, and she startled me each morning by her hasty departure when I began to stir,- thump, thump, thump, striking her head against the floor timbers in her hurry. They used to come round my door at dusk to nibble the potato parings which I had thrown out, and were so nearly the color of the ground that they could hardly be distinguished when still. Sometimes in the twilight I alternatively lost and recovered sight of one sitting motionless under my window. When I opened my door in the evening, off they would go with a squeak and a bounce” (Thoreau 304). 

Thoreau includes many encounters with animals present in the winter in this chapter, but I was particularly drawn to this one. Although it could be because of my affinity for rabbits/hares, I think how his description models the movements and mannerisms of the hares is remarkable. I love how he points out how deceptively they can blend into the ground and be difficult to notice until they move.

Every so often, a bunch of relevant things will align to create an incredibly ironic, yet meaningful, moment. While scrolling through Facebook, I came across this status posted by a good friend of mine:

So I turned around and saw this:

A bright and ever so appropriately spooky moon was creeping over Farinon. I replied to Colin’s status, implying how perfectly the moon fit the upcoming holiday. The following comment thread continued:

I found Colin’s first reply comment painfully ironic for the fact that Halloween, like most holidays with deep historical roots, is based off of the seasonal changes in the natural world. This prompted me to think “no, Colin, nature does not ‘know’ about Halloween and then, to keep in theme, decorate itself with an incredibly spooky, cloud covered moon” and consequently reply to his comment by flipping it around. Then, in a moment even more relevant to our class, Colin claimed that my correction made no sense! To me, this represents a phenomenon that is present throughout Nature Wars: despite the fact that we still live in the forest/nature, we often forget or ignore that nature has always shaped human culture and will continue to do so!

To further explain myself, I cited a page about the history of Halloween to prove that Halloween ‘knows about’ nature because it would not exist without the progressions of nature. (Aside: I have a tendency to include sources in my Facebook comments when I’m trying to argue with someone. Some find it annoying, I find it essential to any good internet disagreement.) Some may even argue that Halloween is the most appropriate example of a holiday that exists because of how nature interacts with and affects civilization. Our modern traditions still reflect the death that came with the beginning of the cold season in the representation of zombies, ghosts, and various spooky/scary/undead symbols of Halloween. We trek through corn mazes and carve pumpkins and make scarecrows out of hay. Exploring the history of Halloween could actually make for a great analysis of how human culture interacts with nature because Halloween knows about nature.

Usually I can’t wake up for my 9 am class, but Saturday morning at 6 am, somehow I was able to hop out of bed like a rabbit on the first warm day of spring. I opened the door to the outside to discover that the sun had not yet awakened. It’s always disorienting for me when I step outside to start my day and the sky is still dark. Despite my conflicting excitement and disorientation, I trekked to Wawa for some sad, yet essential, scrambled eggs and then walked with Jackie to Williams Visual Arts Center.

I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by those who fear sitting behind the back tires, so I was able to stretch out in spacious, albeit bump magnifying back seat. I slept wonderfully, with the exception of one bump that awakened me mid-air, and was ready to attack the trail once we reached the entrance.

I started out a little overconfidently. This has not been one of my most physically active semesters, so by the time we ascended up our first steep piece of the trail, I was winded and peeling off my outerwear as much as I could. Just above that steep bit was when we encountered the delightful 77 year old man and the first trail-pup. It was so early in the hike, and I was already inspired by our natural surroundings and the people who were sharing them with us.

As we got further into the hike, I enjoyed conversations with various members of the class, exchanged greetings with other hikers, and let myself be revived by the crisp air, striking colors, and invigorating exercise.  The vistas we imbibed while standing on the cliffs were breathtaking. Although the sky wasn’t perfectly blue and the longer we stood, the more uncomfortably cold we became, my senses were wholly satisfied. It’s a shame that some people sigh in disappointment at a grey sky. So many beautiful places have a perpetually grey sky. Wouldn’t a departure from that perhaps take away some of the true essence of that place? I’m tempted to say that a bright blue sky on a cold fall day would have disappointed me, but we all know that’s not true.

While sitting on a boulder eating GORP, gouda cheese, and granola, I felt tempted to lean back on the mossy, lichen covered surface and invite insects, twigs, and plant matter into my hair and jacket. I always find that the deeper I get into a hike, the less averse I am to touching everything. While we were standing discussing how our readings relate to the experience, I was playing with the branches above me and surveying to see if there might have been a branch strong enough for me to hang on. During that discussion, I also felt a strange phenomenon that only occurs when I’m in nature or on a stage: an ability to focus so precisely while also allowing myself to observe and be distracted by everything else around me. I find myself much more able to carry multiple streams of thought when I’m in nature.

On the way back, the bright red leaves that littered the trail captivated me. At the time, the only way I could express this was telling Andy that those leaves “were really doin’ it for me.” I enjoyed Jeremy and Dave’s company for the first part of the way back and was reminded of how much easier it is to converse with someone while walking with no intention of diverting courses. There’s no speeding up your last thought because you soon have to peel off in another direction or find yourself only half-listening because you have to focus on getting to where you’re going in a timely fashion.

There’s something so powerfully relaxing and nourishing about climbing up and down rocks, planning your next steps, breathing in fresh air, participating in unhurried conversation, and ignoring being not entirely comfortable. I am doubtful, anxious person. I constantly question if I’m using my time effectively, making the right decisions, and retaining some sense of being true to myself. When I hike, I have no doubts. I don’t question if I’m spending my time effectively, because I know I am. I know I’m being true to myself because it just feels damn right. Even if I get winded and need to sit or slip and have to catch myself, I still feel nourished by my action coupled with the balanced surroundings around me.

I need hiking. Perhaps some people don’t, but I know I do.

http://thecreatorsproject.vice.com/show/video-the-radioactive-art-exhibit-you-cant-see–dont-follow-the-wind

This is an incredibly fascinating, scary, and eye-opening video about a group of artists that made an art exhibition in the exclusion zone around the Fukushima nuclear plant that meltdown in 2011 due to the earthquake and tsunami. These artists potentially chopped years off of their lives to put art into abandoned homes that will, most likely, never be seen in person by any other humans. They describe their art pieces as, in a way, replacing the residents who so hurriedly fled their homes in 2011. Some of the artists also discussed their musings about how the natural elements of the exclusion zone will interact with their artwork as well as the destruction around these elements. One artist created a cube out of glass that was collected from broken windows surrounding the nuclear plant which contains a cube of trinitite. Trinitite is the glassy-like mineral that was created after the first atomic bomb test in New Mexico. It is the result of interaction between the sand of the desert and the new chemical event of the bomb. As the trinitite sits in the exclusion zone marinating in radioactivity, it will become even more dangerous.

I would like to talk more about big, dramatic, all-at-once destruction, in this class. We talk a lot about slow moving land alteration, habitat destruction, air pollution, etc., but I think there is a very unique way that humans interact with natural disasters which we should discuss. More specifically, natural disasters that are either caused or amplified, as is the case with Fukushima, by man-made technology. This art project is an incredible example of how these disasters can make us realize that if we mess with the natural world and create risky industries built from chemical manipulation, it can exclude us forever.

There are a ton of invasive trees on this campus! As Maggie and I were looking up the species of trees around us, I began looking more broadly and realized how disjointed our natural space looks. Once it clicks that most of the trees on this campus shouldn’t be here, the campus starts to look like a collage rather than a cohesive, logical space. I’ve always thought that the buildings were oddly placed and designed, but now I realize the trees are in kind of the same situation. Maggie and I did realize that the Japanese Cutleaf Maple and the Japanese Maple were right next to each other which had a little bit of cohesion, but then when I zoomed out to the space behind Colton Chapel, the continuity was lost again.

According to the Campus Tree Collection brochure, graduating classes established a tradition of planting a tree on their graduation day. I feel like the haphazardness of our tree selection and placement is probably partially due to this fact. If one or a few representatives from every class get to choose the type and location of tree, it is unlikely that it will follow any sort of master plan. It seems a little inefficient to dig up the invasive trees and replace them with native ones, but we should definitely put more thought into the tree selection and placement in the future.

Below are a few pictures of the trees we spotted. We definitely noticed a lack of bite marks and holes in the leaves of the invasive tree species.

#58 Japanese Cutleaf Maple; definitely invasive

Leaves of Japanese Cutleaf Maple; no bite marks/holes

#58 Japanese Cutleaf Maple

#60; Japanese Maple; definitely invasive

Eaten leaves of unidentified native tree

#49 Norwegian Spruce

“We can no longer hope to coexist with other animals if we hope to wage war on their homes and food supplies…. Gardening with natives is no longer just a peripheral option favored by vegetarians and erstwhile hippies. It is an important part of a paradigm shift in our shaky relationship with the planet that sustains us – one that mainstream gardeners can no longer afford to ignore” (14).

“It is increasingly clear, as we shall see, that much of our wildlife will not be able to survive unless food, shelter, and nest sites can be found in suburban habitats…. the degree to which the plants in our gardens succeed in this regard will determine the diversity and numbers of wildlife that can survive in managed landscapes. And because it is we who decide what plants will grow in our gardens, the responsibility for our nation’s biodiversity lies largely with us” (21).