Geography of the James (Earth Lodge)

Maymont was incredible. I would take the time to write out a really nice creative writing narrative-type piece describing the sensations of the place, but there’s just no doing it justice. Or at least with my lacking creative arsenal. It was bloody brilliant, and I’m not just making a cheesy Harry Potter reference. Bloody. Brilliant.

I expected a cool nature center, maybe something like a small natural history museum. But I’ve been to the Museum of Natural History where I live fifteen times, so I wasn’t outrageously excited. I almost wasn’t able to go, and other than not being able to complete this blog post, I wasn’t too broken up about it. In fact, when I finally did get to go, I was feeling pretty sick, and didn’t expect much out of the trip. But I had a ride, friends to go with and an assignment to do, so go I did.

First of all, when we got there we ran into a guy selling snow cones. So that was awesome. We couldn’t go into the nature center, so we just decided to walk around a bit. Or what I thought would be a bit. We ended up spending three hours there. I was expecting a smallish park, maybe ten acres max. It was amazing. We just kept walking and walking and then exploring and frolicking and having a grand old time. We climbed the tree with the oblong waxy leaves I wish I could name, we found a path I’d love to roller blade down, we found a cool fountain, and that’s where I thought the park ended, but no. The gardens. Oh the gardens. The gardens were glorious. That garden, I think called the Italian garden, was my favorite. It had roses and porticoes. It had old stone walkways and stairs. It was romantic. It was just what I needed. To be surrounded by flowers on a perfectly warm and sunny day, it made me feel worlds better. That beautiful fountain/river thing on the stairs, and the waterfall, and the eastern style garden down below, with those awesome stone shrines. And the koy. It was amazing. Like I said, I can’t even do it justice. I wish I could just take a slice of it and put it on the page. But that might ruin it. I’ll attach some pictures because it’s the only thing I can do.

Being there made me feel self actualized, cheesy as that sounds. In part because of something I’ve mentioned before–the fact that gardens seem to me like nature and humanity working in tandem, creating a place of peace that works for everyone and everything. And on days like that, even the weather wants that peace. It reminds me that everything is part of the same whole, we are earth and earth is us. There was this moment that really established that point for me. We were sitting at the bottom of the stairs from the Italian (?) garden, where the fountain lets out in the river thing down the stairs. A few rose petals were floating round and round in the pool of water there. With the sun playing on the water, for some reason it brought to mind the concept of time. Maybe because we were all a bit worried about how much of it we were spending gallivanting at Maymont and not doing our homework. But time has always been something of an infinite concept to me. Not as if I’m under any impression of having an infinite amount of time. Just…it resonates somehow. And the petals floating there brought it to mind in an inexact, vague, resonant way. Like the petal were floating around my sub-conscious but I couldn’t quite reach them to know they were real. To take a quote from one of my favorite books/movies, The Perks of Being a Wallflower–I felt infinite. That’s what the gardens stirred up in me. That’s what a lot of sitting outside in nature and doing things in natures, like kayaking or hiking, stirs up in me. The ‘oceanic feeling’ that Freud credits religion with. That feeling that Chris McCandless left civilization behind to seek. That’s one of my favorite feelings.

Going to Maymont this past Friday was an eye opening experience for me. I had never been to the park before and it wa simply beautiful. While the maps were thoroughly confusing, I almost enjoyed getting lost on all of the paths that wehavea through the hillsa it was nice to take a deep breath and see some greenery in essencially the center of Carytown. After all of the lectures about the watershed, Natalya and I were instantly aware of the mini stream that ran through the park. We chased the stream all the way to the bird exhibit, until we realized we went the wrong way. We did finally make it to the James River exhibit in the nature center…. Walking  into the exhibit you were greeted by a beautiful sculpture of the watershed. If you pushed the various buttons that were below,  different aspects of the watershed would illuminate. To me this was an incredible visual! ( I pushed the James River Watershed button) As we walked further in, the various components of the exhibit were interactive and well designed for children and adults. My favoritth moment of my trip was watching these children play with the fish ladder. It was fun to see that something so simple to us can easily be understood by children as well if people take the time to explain it to them. Watching these children interact with the model made me realize show important it is for their generation to understand the importance of the things around. By teaching children to respect nature, they will grow up with more care for the world around them and perhaps they can help make Earth a cleaner place.

I have to say, I probably didn’t learn as much as I should have from the James River exhibit at Maymont. I was a little too busy making faces at the animals and playing with the toy-like learning tools. Although, maybe that was the point of the whole thing. I’ve heard some people comment that the exhibit was entirely aimed towards kids and that that was unacceptable, but I disagree. When I go to a museum, I’m not there to be lectured at or to read dry signs in heavy scientific script. Exhibits such as the one at the Maymont Nature center are meant to engage and entertain their audience, as well as subtly inform them about the surrounding world. Coming from a city filled with free museums, I can testify to the fact that the most successful and memorable ones were also the most “kid-friendly”; museums that allowed everyone, not just kids or adults, to get engaged, turn some gears and press some buttons with pretty lights.

Everyone wants the chance to act like a kid every once and a while, and a good museum exhibit does just that. The one at Maymont allowed me to blub at fish, while also taking note of the fact that such surprisingly large species inhabited the James. It gave me the chance to turn a cool waterwheel as fast as I could, while informing me about the different forms of pollution. Most of all, it gave me a chance to learn in a way that wasn’t a lecture or intelligent discussion, which was a wonderful break from day-to-day classes. Museums would be the epitome of ineffectiveness if they gave up the sense of wonder that they lend to their subject matter. The Nature Center exhibit did not surrender to high-minded lecturing, and I was able to fully engage with the subject matter…plus the snapping turtle looked like a dinosaur, which is always a plus.

Last Friday morning, I went with a few other EL kids to Maymont Nature Center. We arrived before the Nature center opened, so we walked around the man-made lake nearby. We climbed on the tree stumps and chatted, and I marveled at the sign advertising fishing regulations. It struck me as comical that a shallow, seemingly empty, concrete lake such as this could have fish living in it.

Once inside, we walked around the center. I took particular interest in all the different sea creatures that were there: eels, fish, turtles, and otters. I remember being surprised that otters were a native species. Additionally, I was stunned simply by the number of different species, as well as the presence of big fish. For such a small river, I was surprised it could hold so much.

After the fish there was an exhibit on the load of the river. I had learned that the James is a rather silt-filled river naturally, but this broke down what the river carried into suspended load, dissolved load, and bed load. I was very intrigued to learn that the big pollutants, such as chemicals and fertilizers, are part of the dissolved load, which is unseen in a moving river. In contrast, other types of load are more easily seen, though they contain mostly silt and rocks. It occurred to me that pollution is not necessarily seen, and that the clearness of the water does not have to correlate with pollution.

At the end of our visit we went outside and spoke to one of the animal keepers who was taking a small screech owl outside to sit in the sun. He talked to us about all the types of owls in the area. He mentioned during this conversation how he regularly spots owls. Trained to see them, they are easy to find.

At Maymont I got to really take a good look at the nature I was constantly surrounded by. Most of what I saw there I was previously uneducated or unfamiliar with. Visiting the Maymont website (http://www.maymont.org/page.aspx?pid=281), I find that I am not alone; many visiting are similarly ignorant. Is because of our lifestyles and our disconnection with nature or just nature’s way of hiding itself? Either way, we don’t see much of what is really there. I think back to the man-mad lake I first saw. What else does it hide? All of this seems to link back to the readings we recently completed, on how we need to start thinking about the wilderness as what’s in our own backyards. We need to think about the owls in the trees outside our windows, the squirrels behind the bushes, the fish in the man-make ponds in our neighborhoods, and the geese flying overhead. It’s all there just as much as it is in the unsettled remote areas; we just have to look for it.

Found in the James. And I thought we didn’t have big fish!

I’ve been to Maymont a few times before this year and every visit has been enjoyable and relaxing. The grounds are absolutely gorgeous and there’s something for everyone to enjoy. I hadn’t however been in the Nature Center before, though I’ve passed it and wondered what was inside.

I’ve seen many different nature centers of sorts from various parks back in New Jersey so interactive displays were no stranger, though always fun to explore. Maymont’s nature center had interactive displays, live animals, and a plethora of information about the park and its ecosystems. Most of the information was actually not too new for me, but I still enjoyed all of the displays, especially the 3-D model of the James River watershed. This helped me visualize the scale and relative topography of the watershed that a map can’t do. The 3-D model of just Maymont Park served the same purpose for me. It’s one thing to walk around, or even live in, an area or see it on a map in class, but to get a bird’s eye view of the spatial distribution adds another level of perspective, especially in a hilly area like Richmond.

Another part of the Nature Center that I enjoyed was learning about and seeing some of the native species of the area: foxes, cows, bobcats, bald eagles, bears, turtles, many species of fish, otters, and bison(!). I knew people used the park for purposes of enjoyment: One of my close friends at UR who grew up nearby has told me about classmates who take pictures at Maymont for prom. I’ve even seen a wedding reception being set up on the grounds overlooking the Italian Garden (and was tempted to sneak into the gorgeous venue). But it was refreshing to learn that there are efforts to preserve at least a part of this ecosystem’s history.

I think what I learned first and foremost is that it is possible to preserve the nature and beauty of an area and still have it open for the public to enjoy, use, and interact with. Maymont still includes many of the species that were here long before European settlers arrived. It also includes beautiful gardens, grassy hills for picnics, backdrops for photography, and ample space for general enjoyment of the area. The area has been so well preserved in my opinion to include both ecological and aesthetic features that it makes me wonder why more areas like this don’t exist. Or if they do, where can I find them?

For general information on visiting Maymont: http://www.maymont.org/visitor-overview

After my scientific journey through the James River exhibit of the Maymont Nature Center, the image of the James developing in my mind became filled with Virginia’s finest aquatic wildlife.

The exhibit begins with a fun-filled and innocent exercise which introduces the focus area, pressing buttons illuminates the borders of various geographical boundaries. Curious participants can see the James River, the borders of the James River Watershed and the city of Richmond.

Beyond the first room were tanks of water, each holding past inhabitants of various parts of the James. Prior to my visit to Maymont, I had no idea what lurked within the James.

Prominently displayed were fish habitats. At first glance, most of the fish seemed innocent and harmless as they slid past each other minding their own business. As my eyes continued to search through the manmade habitat, however, I noticed something strange. Experiencing a Blue Catfish for the first time in person is shocking. It looks like a prehistoric creature that is large enough to swallow my whole arm without getting stretch marks. Another tank appeared empty. The label said Snapping Turtle but there was none in sight. I carefully scanned the entire habitat. In the back corner, a gigantic, rigged tail dangled from a shell that had huge jutting spikes. I realized that the eels, crabs and gargantuan fish I was seeing would be beneath my paddling feet the next time I go swimming in the James.

Next to the habitats was a variety of information about the James River. One panel taught about Fish Hatcheries, from which I learned that some fish are bred and hatched in these facilities before they are released into the James River. Another panel explained the importance of wetlands and how they store water, rejuvenate the surrounding ecosystems, and provide habitats to various animals.

Before reaching the end of the exhibit I had made some conclusions. I concluded that the Maymont Nature Center juxtaposes innocent looking animals with vicious looking animals with a light sprinkling of education which creates a mixture between knowledge and fear.

The final room held two River Otters and a quote which said “Anyone who takes the time and effort to understand, to respect, and to love the James River will be rewarded a thousand times” – David Ryan, The Fall of the James. I contemplated David Ryan’s quote as I watched the River Otter swim back and forth. I realized the reason the Maymont Nature Center existed was for people who are interested in understanding the James River, so they can better respect its existence, like me.

When we walked here last Wednesday on our lower lake walking tour, I picked this spot to write these posts. I love gardens. It’s one of the few times I think nature and civilization really work in tandem, at least when done correctly. Sometimes farming strips the land, but not on a little plot like this. And not when the gardeners garden properly. Gardening can add to the land, and help sustain civilization. And encourage peace between the two frequently warring factions.

Right now it’s quiet, but in a loud kind of way. People are mowing the golf course. The Chapel is having some sort of construction done. There’s is a man working in the garden as I type. And some patrons of the golf course are milling around, supposedly golfing. But no one is talking to me. Save my iPad which I type this on, there’s no technology to distract me. No Internet. A hawk just flew past. He’s probably the most well informed thing here with his bird’s eye view. (Yay for bad jokes.)

The dominating sound is the cicadas, crickets, various insects, and a pitch a higher than that, the chirps of what I can only assume are the little brown birds. I only picture those coming from lbbs unless I know otherwise. That outlook probably has something to do with being a product of traditional civilization, where the only creatures of flight brave eough to venture to and fro are those tiny and easily disguised enough to not be bothered.

The section of the garden I’m sitting closest to on my decrepit little bench looks fairly well off, if maybe a little neglected. The tomatoes look like they’ll be readying few weeks. Other than that the only plant I can readily identify are the fall flowers, marigolds I think? I could be wrong about the name, but I know those smallish many petaled golden orange flowers as well as I know my childhood home. Which is to say not that well since I no longer live in that home and no longer have a garden or flowers of my own. In the relative wild outside the fence are some bright yellow flowers and what looks like orange honey suckle, but I’m probably wrong about that identification. I’m not good with names of flowers or plants for the most part, which I kind of prefer. If the plants don’t need names for each other and the animals don’t need names for them, when I’m just sitting and trying to participate in nature without disturbing it, I don’t either.

I love sitting outside like this. I used to do this every night with a cup of tea in my backyard. That right there is part of the reason I wanted to do Earth Lodge actually. My backyard opens onto a forest-park with just an old wooden fence separating us. It’s beautiful and peaceful and loudly quiet at night, just like this, with the softness of the moonlight caressing the silhouettes of the trees. Contrarily, the sunlight here now if much more vibrant and lively, highlighting the bees buzzing around the maybe-honeysuckle and the mosquitoes biting my ankles. It is just as serene, but in a way that keeps me awake with the sounds and sights of so many interconnected lives.

Although, the longer I sit here, the more the sounds of the lawn mowers and construction frustrate me. The gardeners don’t frustrate me at all though. Either way, I find back home and find now that picking a sound, one that isn’t the most obvious, like the stupid lawn mower, and focusing it so all others become dull in comparison, is quite an effective way of meditating, and doing the participating I mentioned. I wanted to write this blog post first, so I wouldn’t have to have the impending work on my mind as I meditated. And with the tree insects just breaking into their late summer song, I think nows the perfect time to go off and do that. So with a warm breeze, in the crux of late summer and fall, harvest time, I’m going to go meditate by this garden. And despite the overwhelming evidence of human interruption, it will be lovely. You know what, maybe even for that. I am an interrupting human after all.