Yesterday (Dec 1), Japan launched a new program of 12 years of “research whaling” for Minke whales in the Antarctic Ocean. This in defiance of the UN International Court of Justice ruling last year.
The purpose of JARPA II [the new “research” program] was “to monitor the Antarctic ecosystem, model competition among whale species and improve the management of minke whale stocks.”
I was looking on the internet for photos of The Kittery Trading Post, near where I live, when I came across this article (http://www.oddthingsiveseen.com/2013/03/the-inside-out-museum-cabelas.html) comparing KTP (the affectionate moniker for the store used by us locals) with Cabela’s. The man who wrote it took a moderately condescending stance, making allusions to the “rednecks” who frequent stores like Cabela’s but I agreed with the main point of this piece which focused on the prevalence and display of taxidermized animals at each location. Ocker (the writer) cites the difference in scale of the animals represented at KTP and Cabela’s and also the variety.
At KTP, the animals are positioned (mostly) tastefully, and are accessories to the merchandise as opposed to mascots in the shape of centerpieces. They are moose, mountain lions, otters, beavers, pheasants, and other critters who lived and died in Maine or other nearby parts of New England/Canada. Despite being someone who loves animals and is easily made sad at the thought of their death, I have never felt uncomfortable with the way these animals are presented (except for the babies, there’s a baby black bear on the way to the camping section that’s always broken my heart). Having read the post that the Cabela’s post is a response to (http://www.oddthingsiveseen.com/2012/11/dead-animals-and-christmas-shopping.html) I took this man’s reaction to be similar- one of amusement and amazement and an understanding of the store’s intention. It is a spectacle, to be sure, and it’s grown monumentally from it’s original roots as a fur trading post in the 1800s, but it retains a sense of authenticity and appreciation for that which it displays and sells in the name of nature.
At Cabela’s, walking through the front door feels like an assault of some sort. The way the animals were posed and mounted just made me imagine them all stacked in a massive pile with a Cabela’s manager plotting where they would go in the absurdly enormous warehouse-style store. This again seemed to accord with this man’s thoughts upon his encounter with the outdoor-retail superstore. The big game animals feel out of place and museum-like, but not in a way that one is intended to appreciate them so much as one is supposed to browse them on their way through the gift shop while they entertain more important matters, like guns and meat processors. Amusingly, Ocker was confused about the living fish surrounded by dead animals, just as we were when we analyzed “The Mountain”.
I don’t think Ocker felt as disconcerted by the experience as we did, and I find it entirely likely that many classmates would be just as disturbed by KTP as they were by Cabela’s. Perhaps it is my proximity to and history with KTP that allows me to view it as a nature-respecting, outdoors-promoting establishment. Perhaps it is my ties to Maine and my understanding of the states’ residents’ appreciation for moose and woodland critters that allows me to justify their displays as tasteful. But I found it really interesting to stumble upon this man’s investigation of both stores and wonder what comparisons and differences others might draw between the two.
Though I am by no means a morning person, I was eager to rise for the trek out to the Catskills last week. My legs were less-than-thrilled to find out they would not fit in front of me, but a few creative sleeping arrangements later, I managed to squeak out a restful 12 or so minute nap on the way there. I have always had an unexplained and probably unnecessary disdain for New York (perhaps my New England sports allegiance extending too far) so I did not have any real expectations for the adventure beyond excitement to be outdoors. Upon arrival my creaky limbs were itching to get moving, and I took to the trail at a near-jog’s pace.
Once I remembered the squats I’d suffered through two days prior, I slowed it down and enjoyed the ascent with the lovely and chipper company of my classmates. Though my usual approach to hiking is kind of a race to the top and a loiterer’s appreciation of the view, I am very easily pleased by nearly every trail I’ve tackled. I was refreshed by the brisk woodsy air, and enamored with the confetti-like scattering of leaves on the ground.
Not long into the hike, we stumbled upon our first dog. I am a BIG dog person, many people liken me to a dog in fact, so naturally, I paused to enjoy the fuzzy hiker. She was a young 4 months old and so eager to take on the trail with her family. The cold air didn’t bother her in the slightest, and she was scaling the rocks like an old pro (despite it being her first hike). Soon after, we encountered a couple and their young daughter and their adult Collie mix. She led the charge, performing impressive switchback maneuvers up ahead before doubling back to be with her humans.
We passed a number of other dogs along the trail, and I was filled with childlike joy each time. They also led me to consider what dogs might think and feel when they accompany their human counterparts in such endeavors. I imagine they must have so excited and pure thoughts about the scents and sights around them. I think I began to aspire to experience the adventure in such a way. I generally don’t think much about my footing and direction while hiking, but I began to take each step even more lightly and precariously, trusting my instinct as a part of nature to guide me safely to the ledges.
Once there, I perched myself as close to the edge as my peers would allow and absorbed the stunning view and all that accompanied it. I was filled with the familiar sense of wonder and satisfaction that follows a successful foray into the forest. I wondered then and I wonder now how the pups might feel in such a moment. Are they aware of their proximity to danger? Are they pleased with their successful ascent? Do they just wish they could find a ball to chase? I hope one day with a dog of my own I can come to understand the pup-like wonder that must come with experiences in the wild.
These past 3 weeks seems like the most stressful weeks of my life. It seemed like I was in an endless midterms week. I walked everywhere in speed-walk while my brain was dazed and stressed. I felt like I was an awful person to be around that was just constantly talking about what I needed to get done and stressing everyone else. I knew that Saturday’s hike was going to be my light at the end of the tunnel. This thought got me through the last week of work.
On Saturday morning I slept through my first 2 alarms and woke up disoriented to Julie tapping me to get out of bed. I threw on my layers of clothing and headed to Wawa. The lights and bright packaging made me even more confused and overwhelmed but I shook it off and headed to WAC. I squeezed into a van row and attempted to sleep off my 3 weeks of midterms, despite the fact that my knees seemed to be going numb.
When we arrived at the trail I was ecstatic to get out of the van. I needed to use my legs and get in a nature that wasn’t the quad. As we started the hike I immediately regretted bringing as much water and layers as I did. They were weighing me down, making me uncomfortably hot and my filled backpack started to hurt my back. But, I continued on anyway and powered through.
Being from Long Island I don’t get to see mountain tops and valleys very often so when we came to the first ledge I was mesmerized. It was at this site when I first came to think about the point I mentioned on our last stop. Looking out at the trees that seems to last forever and land below me, I thought about how much other stuff there is in this world.
I use the vague word “stuff” because I think that there is just really so much outside of my own life that this Earth encompasses. There are millions of trees that have their own networks and ways of survival. There are millions of species that are part of different ecosystem webs. There are even animal and plant species that humans don’t even know about that exist out there. There are billions of people on this Earth that have their own friendships, personalities, joys, and worries. And there are the oceans, rivers, lakes and bays that have their own ecosystems that are entirely different from the one that we saw on Saturday. Point being– looking out on this vista and walking along this trail made me realize that there is so much “stuff” on this Earth outside of the stress I endured these past 3 weeks on the Lafayette’s campus. I am just one very small part of this Earth.
It is important to get out in the wilderness and to remember this notion. If we do not we can get too wrapped up in our own lives and become stressed out about things that are just so minute. We would unintentionally live life as ignorant and self absorbed. Reflecting on the big picture is humbling and calming. Coming out of the hike I am emotionally and mentally restored. The physical hiking of the trip (and focusing on not breaking an ankle) helped do this but it was looking into the woods and out to the vistas that brought me back to center. As much as I wish it could, the Quad just doesn’t seem to do the same for me. Maybe the reasons why is the pesticide use or the idea of being on campus but either way I need to get out of the Lafayette bubble more often.
In the Catskill wilderness (not pictured: Teresita, Nicole, Abby & Elly Wrightsmith)
Into the wild
old trees on much older sandstone rocks
“Pond Scum: Henry David Thoreau’s moral myopia”
As soon as I scrolled past this article title on Facebook the other day, I was obviously intrigued. I have at times taken issue with Thoreau’s harshness in criticizing others for not living as he did, particularly given that his escape into the wild has never been genuine enough for my liking. Though I appreciate him as a writer, it has been difficult for me to wholly appreciate Walden because I find a considerable amount of his commentary to be unnecessarily judgmental and closed-minded, which is disappointing because I feel environmentalists who wish to instill the love of the unknown and unchanged ought not to represent these qualities.
The writer of this article is at times sassy and always critical, but she gives credit where credit is due, for example in her praise of his mastery of nature-writing. Never does she question his brilliance or relevance, but she tears the legitimacy of Walden limb from limb which is interesting to see whilst currently reading the book.
I think the most representative passage from the piece is, “The hypocrisy is that Thoreau lived a complicated life but pretended to live a simple one. Worse, he preached at others to live as he did not, while berating them for their own compromises and complexities,” a feeling I think has been echoed in out-of-class musings of classmates and peers who see me reading the book.
Anyway, definitely definitely worth the read for anyone who wants to challenge any ideas they may have about Thoreau or Walden!
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/10/19/pond-scum?mbid=social_facebook
this is the spot we were planning to hike to two weeks ago (pic stolen from the Catskill Native Plant Society facebook group):
“We all strive for safety, prosperity, comfort, long life, and dullness. The deer strives with his supple legs, the cowman with trap and poison, the statesman with pen, the most of us with machines, votes, and dollars, but it all comes to the same thing: peace in our time” (Leopold 141).
This quote from Leopold’s work struck me and left me thinking about it well after I had finished the assigned reading. Every living being strives for all of these components to a successful and happy life, and all of it boils down to peace. People have taken this to many different levels throughout history, including peaceful activism through demonstrations or extreme actions through war. Many conflicts have started, at least in part, over different ideological views, as people hope to achieve a world where their perspectives and desires reign successfully. The notion of peace in our time is then followed up by a quote from Thoreau: “In wildness is the salvation of the world.” Leopold addresses the importance of each component of an ecosystem, such that the presence of wolves does indeed matter. The mountains understand the integral value of the wolf, while others may not be able to perceive the connection between the wild and this “salvation” or greater appreciation. To understand this is to “think like a mountain” as the title of the passage suggests. Leopold communicates this as a deep interconnectedness of all elements in the ecosystem, and this may not be apparent when humans think of themselves solely as individuals, rather than a piece of this greater system. To have peace in our time, we must think of the world as an interconnected system of the wild and the world in which we reside.
This weekend I spent time driving up to Syracuse NY to visit my brother for his first Family Weekend! From Lafayette, it is about a 3 hour drive, mostly along I-80 and I-81. There were two times on the way up that I wanted to stop, get out, and take pictures, and relax while watching nature. The first was traveling through Wind Gap. I left at 7 in the morning, so there was still fog in places, especially through Wind Gap. The clouds were still hanging in the valleys! It looked so pretty – and reminded me of Iceland because there, the clouds are always getting stuck on the mountains. As I continued my drive, I drove through rocks and found myself wondering their geologic history and composition because they looked so neat. Along the way I also passed the exit for the lignite museum – which is coal. This was near Scranton and I couldn’t help but think that would have been interesting to stop at, but I was alone, and on a schedule.
The place I really wanted to stop at the most, was between Tobyhanna State Park and Wayne, PA. Here the trees were changing color already, and many were bright red. There was a field among the forest, and it looked almost as if there had been a wildfire in the somewhat recent past. The underbrush was very dense and the trees had very little branches except at the tops. A little further up, there was a beautiful lake, being advertised as part of a sporting area used for ‘sporting weekends’. On the other side there was a small dock, and a car there. I wanted more than anything to hang out at this pond/lake for a bit and see what else was around there. I remember from Bio 102 that Tobyhanna has a different climate to it, and at this time of the year, just driving through, you could tell it was definitely different from the areas north and south of it. It would have been a great place to hike!
It is odd to see such a natural place on either side of a highway where the speed limit is 70. Everyone bolts past the beauty. The area has been altered for the highway, and not many people would even pay attention to the wilderness that is left, and there wasn’t even a place to pull off to soak it all in. Its sad to think the beauty is being ignored.
“This, then, is the central paradox: wilderness embodies a dualistic vision in which the human is entirely outside the natural. If we allow ourselves to believe that nature, to be true, must also be wild, then our very presence in nature represents its fall. The place where we are is the place where nature is not” (Cronon, 80-81).
Cronon believes that man is a part from nature rather part of nature, which opposes many other environmental writers and public opinions. People like to think nature may coexist with humans, but Cronon says the exact opposite, such that nature is exactly where humans are not. He seems to pose the idea that nature cannot truly exist with humans around.
“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 are completely lost, or turned round, – for a man needs 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. Every man has to learn the points of compass again as often as he awakes, whether from sleep or any abstraction. Not till we are lost, in other words, not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations” (Thoreau, 186-187).
Thoreau addresses the notion of being truly awake and aware of one’s surroundings in this passage. He suggests that getting lost in the woods is a necessity in discovering one’s self. Although it will require some reorienting, one may then truly understand one’s place and the interconnections of nature.