Something that nagged in my mind as I read the Walker Percy portions regarding leaving the beaten path and how that is the only real way to recover the creature is that every time I go somewhere quintessentially scenic or notorious, I push the limits of how far into it I can go. I’m not sure that makes sense in that phrasing but I think I have always been fairly dissatisfied with the structures of limitation that exist in beautiful places worth visiting. For example, if I go to the edge of the ocean, I want to touch the water. If I’m hiking a mountain, I want to stand as close to the cliff as I can without falling. It is in these places where I feel it is most possible to *feel* whatever it is you’re supposed to feel when you seek out a beautiful place.

When we continued to talk about this desire and almost necessity to be off the path, Professor Brandes mentioned Mesa Verde and how suffocating it is have to be guided or otherwise limited. This is something I have noticed mostly in family-friendly destinations in the US. The endless signs and railings and walls and fences not only disrupt the views in my mind, they also detract from the experience by forcing instruction and restriction where I feel instruction and restriction ought not be necessary. I understand that a lot of things are safety precautions and I honestly got used to them to the point where I scarcely noticed them as obtrusively as I once did.

Until my family visited Ireland a few summers ago. Nowhere that we went had a railing, and the few places that had signs bore signage that was far more common sense and far less belittling. I remember lying on the edge of a rock face at the Cliffs of Moher with my younger sister trembling with the knowledge (and the cold) that I could be blown away into the sea (and to my death) at any moment. It was a beautiful memorable moment to the core because there I was at this supremely touristy destination and yet no one was guarding it or telling me what to photograph or what not to touch or where not to be. I experienced this glory again this past summer when my family returned again to the motherland and hiked up to Dun Anghasa on Innis More, Aran Islands. The ruins of the fort are built up to the edge of a massive ocean-viewing cliff and there is nothing to prevent anyone from sprinting and leaping if they so choose. No cameras, no guards, not even a sign. Until my father made it up and nearly fainted seeing my mom, sister and I perched on the ledge, we were completely in awe at our proximity to such natural danger and beauty.

I wish that more places within my reasonable regions of access were like this at home. I definitely felt that parks were less restrictive in the Western United States but I still felt as though the quantity of people and especially children made me feel like I needed to be on guard at times. I think I would have liked to hung out with Walker Percy and learned more about his thoughts on the presence and importance of man’s relation to nature.

We discussed breaking the mold in class today. This included trying to see outside of the “packaging” that Percy talks about in his article. We especially seemed to focus on the education system in the USA. Education in our country has always been under fire for being one of the worst of developed nations. Many under countries outperform us in almost all subjects.

However, I do not think it is necessarily education that is the culprit. The problem comes with grades; how do we quantify learning in an accurate way? How can we reflect what we have learned in a way that accurately displays all the different facets of education?

For example, to tie this into nature, someone who has lived their whole life out in the wild is perfectly capable of surviving by themselves. Think Tarzan. Not the most eloquent fellow, and yet he still is educated in a way that most people are not and has the skills necessary to live on his own.

Based on our system of education and grading, Tarzan would be considered a dolt. Even though he can provide for himself and was relatively happy with his life which is one definition of success.

Now I realize this class is about nature and the outdoors but I’m going to write about being inside. I decided to write this when I was walking through my house and looked in one of the other guys rooms and noticed he had a large rubber plant right next to his door.

Now apart from the strange smell, (turns out he spilled his watering jug and the smell was a wet carpet) the plant was actually a pretty cool addition to the room.

It is pretty well known that having plants indoors is good for things like air purification because they absorb CO2 that our bodies produce and then produce oxygen themselves. But in addition to physical benefits, plants might offer mental benefits, as well. Studies have shown having ornamental plants in the home or workplace can improve memory and efficiency. While getting outside and exploring nature everyday might not be realistic, having a piece of nature in your room or home can help keep that connection with Nature all the time.

“Seeing the canyon under approved circumstances is seeing the symbolic complex head on.”

Upon reading this sentence in “The Loss of the Creature”, I felt overwhelmingly compelled to exclaim “THIS IS THE MOST FRUSTRATING THING ABOUT TRAVELING!” Of course everyone gets annoyed by tourists who are so clearly touring for superficial reasons, but some attractions, which may have incredible value to visit, are only available if you abide by “approved circumstances.” Additionally, many travelers may not know enough or feel comfortable enough to bypass said approved circumstances. While in Prague, I became frustrated by visitors who essentially thought Prague was a quarter of the size it really is because that quarter is the most photographed, historical, and symbolic place that people think of when someone says “Prague.” I would try to coax visiting friends out of this bubble, but the first question they always had was “is it safe that far away from the city center?” I found this misconception that the place less photographed and less present in the collective world mind is somehow unsafe and unfit for visitors. I feel that Percy would agree in that assertion since he discusses that learning the theory of or how an individual or thing should be can so significantly detract from ones experience of said thing.

Although this phenomenon rings true with visitors to Prague, I found that the most painful to watch obliviousness to true experience happens in Amsterdam. The common tourist thinks of two things when they hear the name “Amsterdam”: prostitutes and marijuana. For that reason, the red light district of Amsterdam has become a vile cesspool for shallow tourists who spend a ton of time and money without experiencing one bit of the true meaning of Amsterdam. On my one walk through the red light district, I kept hearing people saying they were going to have the time of their life because they were going to experience the only two things that could possibly be valuable to do in Amsterdam: seeing naked women through windows and legally (kinda) getting stoned.

I agree wholeheartedly with Percy’s critique of tourists, but in a way, I’m glad this is the case. If every tourist was trying to experience the true essence of a place by spontaneously exploring and leaving expectations behind, they wouldn’t be so conveniently quarantined to the most recognizable places and I wouldn’t be able to avoid them so successfully.

In preparation for Saturday’s kayaking trip, I felt it appropriate to reflect on my past experiences rafting and kayaking because they happen to be some of my favorite travel memories.
My first experience kayaking was in Spain, on the ocean. I was terrified I would drift off into the open ocean and get lost. I did not want to do it. I was 16. Of course I was able to get over the fear I had enough to get into the kayak and head out onto the water. Halfway to wear we were heading, a group of Spanish kids flipped us over. The kayak was so heavy we could barely get it to flip back over. I remember being amazed at how it was able to float (and how boats could float). The waves and the lack of sea floor below us made it all the more difficult, and brought be back to all the terrifying thoughts I was having earlier. After finally getting back into our kayak, we headed off to meet our class in peace. I had a new fear of the ocean but great trust in my life vest and kayak now. We didn’t go far before turning around to head back to shore.
A little more adventurous and outdoorsy the summer I turned 20 I spent a week on Lake George in New York. My family has a cabin there. Every morning, and sometimes again in the afternoon, my friend and I went out onto the lake in the kayaks. It was early summer so the lake was quiet. We saw many birds and admired the mountains. It was peaceful floating on the water.
A few weeks later, I landed myself in Costa Rica with my family, spending one day rafting down the Savage River. The water was so warm, the scenery was pristine. I couldn’t have been happier that day. Our guide taught us all about the history of the area, the people who lived there and he pointed out so many different animals on our trip down. He had grown up in the valley. Our guide also seemed to be one with the water, he knew how the waves and turbulence would effect the boat and even did tricks for us. The rapids were lower grade, generally level 3 but some were up to level 5, but I wasn’t at all afraid like I had been in the ocean. I was loving the ‘pura vida’ life.
There is nothing like being on a small floating kayak or raft to make you feel one with nature, or at least with the water. It is humbling to feel the power that is found in nature and to be able to work with it to become closer to it.

For those unfamiliar with Lafayette’s campus, there is a collection of toddlers that attend daycare on the hill. They are often seen roaming around the quad, struggling to balance their bodies, wobbling as they go. For this trait of being toddlers on the quad- they have been designated as “Quadlers” by Lafayette’s students. These Quadlers bring great joy to Lafayette, running around carefree on the quad. We see them on our way to class, or when we are staring out at the quad when we are in Skillman and should be doing homework.

These little humans are just starting to appreciate the world- the distinction between nature and civilization means nothing to them. They have no concept of weather patterns, why the sun comes up every morning, or why the grass is green. For a variety of reasons, children today are spending much less time outside than the previous generation did. This means that children have fewer opportunities to enjoy the sensory and learning experiences of feeling a breeze or squishing mud through fingers and toes.

Going outside is the highlight of the day for Quadlers. A great deal of learning is happening as the children watch and interact with their environment. The classroom is not the only learning environment, and it is important to go outside and be able to recognize this.

As we began to discuss in class today, it can be complicated to know when one is flirting with or crossing the line of cellular obsession. So often we find ourselves playing aimlessly with our phones when we don’t even know why, and more often than not this happens in the company of our friends and family. The readings made me contemplate my relationship with the natural world in connection to my technology as well as my life in connection with those around me, as is dictated by phone use in particular.

I am notorious for not responding to texts in a timely manner (or sometimes at all) and I have been endlessly chastised and sometimes yelled at for this fault. But I have always, particularly in recent months and years, wondered how this can be such a problem. When we were discussing in class how people either preferred being in constant contact or not, and the “phone game” and things of the like, I began to specifically wonder- is it more inconsiderate to text while with friends, or not to text your friends when you’re apart?

I have always been fairly comfortable with the fact that I’m slow to get back to people because I tend to think if it is urgent, the person seeking my attention will either call or find me in person. I know it can be annoying, but at the end of the day, what is the overall loss? But then I get self-conscious because I feel socially that is very frowned upon and as a generally polite person I would hate to come across uncaring or unkind.

Yet on the other hand, I feel like I am prone to becoming defensive if I am called out for using my phone too much in the company of others. How can this be? As I am still sorting through my thoughts on the matter, I would be very interested to see what others think about which is worse, and why.

Through out our walk today, and the past few days, I have noticed how much trash is in places that it does not belong.

On our first ramble I noticed a television behind Watson Hall. On Saturday I was driving off campus and as someone walked across the street an empty coffee cup fell from her bag, we stopped the car for her to go back and grab it but she turned around then looked at it and kept walking. Today on our walk I saw a sink to the left of the abandoned stone staircase. When we walked through the brush and came to the dam, I saw styrofoam cups, beer cans and overflowing trash bags scattering the tree line.

Why is it that we litter? The girl with the coffee cup and the television and sink owners were clearly polluting intentionally but why? Is it because we think that someone else will clean it up because we are just too lazy? Do we think that it won’t have an affect? Maybe we think that nature will just make a comeback and just figure out how to deal with it.

Well, that trash does have an effect. Take a look at this video I saw on Facebook over the summer of a sea turtle who was affected by someone’s decision to litter.

On Saturday I took a walk down the Karl Sterner arts trail. As the group who I was walking with separated out, I found that I was in the back. But, I didn’t care because I decided to take advice from class and slow down, really look up and observe.

As I walked, I noticed how the sunlight hit the creek differently with each step I took. I noticed that leaves were beginning to fall and I simultaneously had to come to terms with the fact that my beloved summer was ending. I could go on for pages about the little things that I noticed but one that stuck out the most were these clumps of red bugs on the fence that lined the creek side of the trail.

From afar I thought that the red clumps were little flower buds. As I got closer I noticed that they were clumps of 50-100 red and black bugs. I am no biologist so I have no idea what they were but the idea that they were there stuck with me.

I thought, “were they eating something, are they mating or are they just hanging out on this fence for no particular reason?” Whatever reason they were there, I thought about how nature will always find its way into the man made world. Granted this fence was intended to be outside and interact with nature’s forces to some extent. However, the stark contrast between the rusted, metal fence to the red and small insects opened my mind to this bigger idea of how nature will always make an appearance even in a world that seems so controlled by man.