Geography of the James (Earth Lodge)

“Cities have long been compared to organisms—Plato talked about the city as a corporeal body—but underneath the street makes the metaphor literal. These are the guts of the city, the metal intestines that allow suburbs to sprawl and skyscrapers to rise. The fiber-optic cables are nerves, and the subway tunnels are thick jugular veins. Energy is distributed, and waste is digested.”

Of all the readings that we’ve read so far this semester, this quote in particular has stuck out to me. I recall driving back from New York over the summer with Brian Strehlow in my passenger seat and New York City in front of us. The friendship that I’ve come to hold dear started with a conversation about the hugeness that is New York City and how it is awfully similar to other biological creatures. Looking back at my previous blog posts, I’ve realized that I tend to focus on the small things before realizing the larger picture. While Meeps read her post to the class describing her experience by the James River during the flood, she mentioned the icicles hanging on the branches and how to some, they’d be overshadowed by the violent rushing water. Simply noticing those icicles struck a particular note that resonated with me. Often times when I’m out and about, I catch myself staring at one leaf in particular. Part of it is because I like to take freeze frames of that particular leaf and remind myself how perfectly unique it is in time, space, and makeup. The other reason is because I feel like that leaf often goes unnoticed, and maybe by peering at it, I can see what makes it up to be what it is.

It is this very attention to detail that makes me feel like I know something about whatever it is I’m observing. In Abby’s post, “Proud to be a Richmonder,” she wrote about how since coming to UofR, she has come to realize how much Richmond has to offer. Part of my decision in coming to this school was due to how entranced I was by the city the few times I visited. I was excited to go to all the coffee shops, book stores, and parks. I did not realize at the time that I’d eventually join earthlodge and learn the historical details about what makes the city of Richmond what it is. As I’ve come to learn and love the city more and more over the course of the two years, I have realized that I don’t necessarily know much about the city where I come from. Yes, I can tell you all the best places to eat and the where all the locals go, but in the same way Abby was not aware of everything the city of Richmond had to offer, I know there is a gap of knowledge missing about my town back in Louisiana. However, in knowing that, I fall more in love with this very place—Richmond, Virginia. I can’t say I have ever known about the watershed of where I was living, the projects the city was looking to act on, or the park system that can often be underappreciated. It is refreshing to feel involved with the city and know where it looks to go and where it comes from.

In my first reflection post sitting on the log on one of the Frisbee golf holes, there was a lone cinder block that was hundreds of yards away from any sort of construction that would use cinder blocks. I remember almost scoffing at it at the time after thinking that someone seemed to have gone out their way to put it there. Of course, I actually have no idea where it came from, but after reflecting on that moment for quite some time, that cinder block in the woods can easily serve as a comparison for the city of Richmond. Yes, maybe there should be a lot more cinder block and a lot less woods, but part of the reason I love the city of Richmond is that very style of urban living. More specifically in the parks, one does not have to look too far to see the remnants of old infrastructure that has decayed and been left behind for nature to overrun. In Taylor’s blog post, “Aging Infrastructure, New City?” he mentions how he appreciates that the James River Park System left the old buildings, pipes, and bridges for all to see. I feel like it happens too often that people and cities try to cover up the past and its’ remnants in an attempt to look more put together. In Richmond’s case, it is the mixture of old and new, nature and city that makes me appreciate living here so much more. Taylor is right when he mentions how the industrial residue strewn about our parks is an important reminder of where we come from and how we have changed.

In Lauren’s post, “Volunteering for Sierra Club,” she mentioned that after she left the Byrd, she felt like she “was the one who had been helped instead of the other way around.” I’ve found that particular feeling to be characteristic of other volunteering experiences. Often times, it is the knowledge that one gains from a volunteering experience that proves most useful. Yes, you may be temporarily relieving or helping with other things, but one is able to do more with the knowledge that comes from the experience of working with other dedicated people. With that knowledge, the educating of others becomes possible, and the awareness that one gains increases the likelihood of further volunteering. One thing earthlodge has helped me do is bridge the gap between knowledge and reflection. In most of my classes, we are constantly learning and understanding new concepts, but rarely do we step back to reflect on what it means and how it affects us. It has been refreshing to learn about things relevant to my everyday life and realize the importance of actively pursuing that knowledge.

A major theme of this class that has resonated in my mind is that the world is interconnected through hydrology.  Every surface on our planet belongs to a watershed, or an area of land where water can drain through and end up in one place.  The entire planet receives some amount of precipitation from the atmosphere each year, so of course water is a linking factor among all of Earth’s surfaces.

When learning about watersheds in class, we could not avoid the issue of pollution.  There are two main sources of water pollution defined by the Clean Water Act:  point and nonpoint sources.  Nonpoint sources cause pollution to infiltrate land runoff, precipitation, atmospheric deposition, drainage and seepage.  Point sources are easier to pinpoint, as their name explains.  A point source is more tangible, like a giant factory dumping chemicals into a river…which brings me to…

Kepone!  It is a toxic insecticide that was dumped into the James River from 1966 to 1975.  There was a Kepone plant in Hopewell VA that caused this pollution in the James.  Luckily, the EPA took care of it in 1975 as it was deemed a “Superfund Site”- an establishment releasing harmful chemicals into the environment.

Unfortunately the government cannot zap away all pollution like that.  Nonpoint sources are much more difficult to eradicate.  Point sources can be protested and shut down (Like when I protested Dominion Power’s non-renewable energy use this past fall with Kenta and Jenni).  Nonpoint sources are much trickier.

As we learned in class, individuals live, work, and travel in watershed regions.  At the same time, individuals cause pollution which has consequences on the watershed.  I really enjoyed the slide on Watershed Pollution and Preservation which included the “Awareness, Appraisal, Behavior” diagram.  The slide stated: “To act- People must be aware” and “People must be concerned.”

I feel like acting to reduce pollution is one thing, but maintaining an active anti-pollution lifestyle is another. It is kind of like dieting (which I hate talking about, but it’s applicable).  One can say no to an unhealthy food once, but in order to maintain a healthy status, good habits need to be set in an individual.  This mentality along with awareness can spread to individuals, neighborhoods, and other larger communities.

I am really sad that I missed the Henricus Park trip this past Sunday :(.  I was at the A10 Track and Field Conferences in Rhode Island.  Reading your syntheses, I got a little bit of an idea of how the trip was.  I definitely need to talk to you guys more about it!

When I was in Rhode Island, it was blizzarding (is that a word?) the entire time.  I had never seen a blizzard really my whole life.  It was crazy.  I was pole vaulting in this stadium that felt like a snow globe.  The wind was whirling the snow around so much.  It was crazy.  An igloo would have been nice.

When I walked around outside, as my entire shins sank into the 20+ inches of snow, I could not help but think of—WATERSHEDS!  All that snow had to melt at some time- snowmelt!–and drain into the ground and surrounding bodies of water.  I do not know much about the rivers, bays and harbors of Rhode Island.  But the funny thing was that between the hotel in Newport and the track in Kingston, there was a giant bridge with Jamestown Island in the middle.  I certainly compared it to Virginia’s Jamestown-not very similar!  I think that I can hypothesize now that the bodies of water in Rhode Island will become much fresher after all this snow melts.

This is a map of where I was in Rhode Island and its waterways!

I’ve never been a graceful person. Ask anybody and everybody who has spent more than a half hour of time with me. I’m a hot mess. I’m that awkward person who walks into somebody because they can’t decide which side to step around them on. I’m the girl that wipes out in public when it’s raining because her faith in the traction of her shoes is unfounded. My older sister was a ballerina for seven years, and the running joke in my family was that I would someday follow in her footsteps and be that one dancer in the performance that makes the rest of the dancers look amazing in comparison. So it surprised me that when I considered what overarching theme I had noticed personal growth in understanding in, the word balance came to mind.

The next thing that came to mind was Meeps’ post about our visit to the James when it was flooding. She wrote about the amazing and delicate icicles hanging from the roots of trees whose bases were usually untouched by the James’ waters, and about how it was incredible that a river so wild and untamed could produce such fragile treasures. The fact that the two were so opposite yet so connected demonstrates the balance nature achieves daily, even in irregular situations like the severe rainstorm that caused the James to flood. Storms come and go, and the environment has a natural way of recovering from whatever disturbances occur, given enough time. One idea that has stuck with me for the three years it’s been since I took Advanced Placement Environmental Science in high school is something my teacher said repeatedly over the course of junior year. Humans are the problem. If every last human being on the planet disappeared right now, the Earth would recover from the environmental degradation we’ve put it through and nature would regulate itself as it was meant to.

It seems as if some people are using nature’s ability to regulate itself as an excuse to abuse it, however. In Anne’s blog post about Exxon Valdez oil spill, she wrote about how the speaker she saw said that “the ecosystem would have recovered on its own if it was just let alone.” I see this as him exploiting a technicality to avoid taking responsibility for the mistakes made. Yes, the ecosystem would have recovered eventually. But no, that does not mean you can ignore what you’ve done.

Any scale will continue to be balanced as long as weight is added to each side equally. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, said Newton. This can be seen in the way nature reaps benefits from events as destructive as wildfires. It is demonstrated in the way the Earth keeps itself warm through the greenhouse effect, maintaining its capability to sustain life. It’s the Gaia hypothesis.

The concept of balance came into play at the Environmental Film Festival as well. During the few minutes of Chasing Ice that I got to see, the narrator spoke about how the natural tendency of the glaciers is to melt, then grow, then melt again and so on. They melt naturally. But they also grow naturally. Or used to, anyways. This was another time that a person used this technicality as loophole, and it irritated me immensely. The climate change doubters in the film argued that since glaciers melt naturally, there is no proof for the idea that humans are causing their increasingly rapid retreat. It’s ridiculous how often that argument is used to fight environmental movements. Nature will balance itself out, but if you’re responsible for disruption, you’re responsible for helping to fix it.

I’m being slightly hypocritical here. I have never, after all, achieved a perfect balance in my life. I’ve always felt like I was neglecting some part of my social, academic or personal life. Especially this semester. We’re nearly at March, and I’ve yet to be completely comfortable with my schedule. This semester my goal was to do my Sierra Club internship ten hours per week, my Sport Club Executive Council hours five hours per week, lead a Quidditch team to success at the World Cup, do well in my classes, be an active and involved member of Earthlodge and Pi Phi, maintain my relationship with my freshman year friends living in Grey Court while cultivating my relationships with my Quidditch, Earthlodge and Pi Phi friends, get back into shape by going to the gym daily, and get enough sleep to remain sane. My concept of balance sucks. But I like to think of myself as a self-regulating system similar to the Earth. Everything will balance out as long as I don’t let one particular sphere get too heavy. I find that when I’m sitting in my reflection spot in the gazebo, I feel more balanced than anywhere else on campus. I’ve come to realize that it’s because when I’m in the gazebo I can recenter myself free of outside influence. It’s my mini version of the solo spot I told the Earthlodgers about at Georgia’s apartment last semester during book club. As a refresher, during the summer after my junior year of high school I was a student at The Island School in the Bahamas, and part of the summer term was a 24-hour solo on a beach. I told the Earthlodgers how it was the best day of my life, because it was my life, 100% me. I think sometimes we confuse other people’s weight with our own, and that throws our scales off. Being alone once in a while helps achieve the balance I so desperately search for.

Being in Earthlodge this year has truly taught me what a multi-faceted and complex system the world is, and how complex the people living in it are. I’ve learned that the key to balance, in any context, is not to avoid putting weight on the scales overall, but to refrain from  letting any one side carry too much. It’s a responsibility. Both to oneself and to the environment.

Stop.

Don’t skip ahead and answer this…

What’s the nearest river to you?

How has it affected you?

How does it affect you?

For a long time I didn’t think much about rivers. Of course I enjoyed playing in them and watching them, but I didn’t really think much about them. They were there and that was that. But “that,” has changed much over the past few weeks due to my class on the James River.

The James River is river over 300 miles that stretches from the Appalachians, across Virginia and into the Chesapeake Bay which feeds into the Atlantic Ocean. The river starts at Iron Gate where the Jackson and Cowpasture Rivers meet. This isn’t what I learned in class though, it’s just what I got off Wikipedia.

What I got from class was that we are connected to the river in so many ways. Richmond was built where it is because it was as far as the colonists could come up the river. The river made it easy for transportation, food, and other things like power. People fought the James,  and tamed it by changing its flow to be more direct and better for their purposes.  Even the school I go to is an extension of the river. We have a lake on campus(Westhampton Lake,) which feeds directly into the James. The campus was built here, because a closed amusement park used to be here because it could use the lake as an attraction. However the history of the James is as murky as its waters in a storm. Fights with Native Americans, exaggerated stories and tales have left a somewhat dirty early history, which wasn’t cleaned up much due to a history of pollution. The James has had a reputation as a dirty polluted river, due much in part to point source pollution by Kepone.

Despite this the river has since cleaned up its act. With new reform policies and increased awareness the river became much cleaner and became a major source of recreation. Places like Belle Isle, Pony Pasture, and Huguenot Flatwater have become major sources of recreation. (Natalie) I’ve been to all these places for slightly different activities but it’s always an adventure and a great change of pace. The local wildlife is also always worth the trip. ( Kevin , John ) There have also been many strides to improve recreation at these sites. As discussed in our class, the city is looking into bike trails to make these places much more accessible to bikers and walkers, which is especially nice for college students. Cleaning the river is often advertised to keep these places safe and pristine.

One thing I never really considered was watershed. I didn’t really know what one was. A watershed is a place where all the water in that area drains to the same place. So currently I’m in the James river watershed(actually I’m in several a watershed holds several watersheds) so if I drop any liquid it drains into the James. If I spill Gatorade outside, it flows into the James. If I spray pesticides and fertilizer, they run (with rain and runoff) into the James. If a deer peed ou-, you know lets skip that last one. But I never really thought about how every single drop of water in a watershed ends up in the James. A drop of water high in Northwest VA, goes into the James to where I am and then to the ocean. The scope is just so massive. And to consider the James River Watershed is just part of another watershed which is part of an even larger watershed, it is too big to imagine, at least for me. My campus as mentioned has a lake which is fed by two rivers. Now the lake has its own watershed that stretches over 3 times the size of campus. So what our neighbors off campus do, affects our lake on campus. I find it impressive, interesting, and a little frightening how connected everything really is.

Not only is our fun and history related to our river but so is our art and culture. Songs have been composed about the river, as well as paintings painted, photographs taken, and poems written. Take this previous post for example(Meeps) Just by describing the river Molly has created beautiful prose poetry without really meaning to, or at least I assume so. I’ve walked along the storm wall and have seen art and graffiti inspired by the River that both builds and breaks the city built on it. An interesting culture has also been built around the river. The river divides Richmond into two sides, the North side and South side. The two sides have a little bit of riverside prejudice against each other. Strange how a river that connects everything ended up making a barrier between people.

Rivers are fundamental to humans. Based on historical evidence we originated between two rivers, the Tigris and Euphrates. All our major civilizations began on rivers. Our race as a whole has been completely influenced by our rivers, and this influence cannot be removed. Generations after us will continue to be shaped by our rivers. Yet as the river shapes us we shape it. We can change the flow of a river. We can pollute and corrupt it into a river possible of catching flames from chemicals. We are able to clean and restore it, and build recreation, culture and arts around it. As we move the river the river moves us, though without taking time to stop and we don’t know how we affect the river and how it affects us.

I have been fortunate to take many environmental classes, but Geography of the James has been the most interactive and hands on, by far. Being able to see the things we talk about in class, makes the topics much more interesting. Additionally, this class has focused much more on water than many of my other classes. Since I grew up spending most of my time on the water, it has been great to learn more about it. As I learn about the James River watershed, I feel I am able to also learn about watershed I grew up in, just by comparing it to the James. Learning about the watersheds has caused me to realize how unnatural the many watersheds are. Man’s thumbprint tailors them to our needs. After learning about many of the topics we have covered in class, my concern for watershed issues have drastically increased.

Growing population and increasing demand for resources have stimulated the increased manipulation of watersheds.  Collective impacts of dams, water impoundment, diversion, regulated flows, stream channelization, wetlands drainage, and groundwater extractions progressively modify public lands, according to Pringle. Dams plague the Colorado River that runs through Austin, Texas. The James River has a huge cut through it, in order to facilitate easier travel and trade. Changes such as these are common throughout the United States. Additionally, large amounts of water are pumped from rivers to support growing populations in arid regions, especially the western United States. The famously treacherous Gunnison River in Colorado is a beautiful location for world-class rainbow trout fishing and rock climbing, but has been threatened because of population growth in the Colorado Front Range, including Denver, Boulder and Colorado Springs. The famed Colorado River of the Southwest barely even drains into the Sea of Cortez any more. Dammed rivers in the Northwest United States have been detrimental to salmon that rely on free flowing rivers to breed. These truly amazing engineering feats have caused formidable environmental problems.

Although the environmental problems caused by manipulating water are regrettable, it is important to highlight the significant benefits of these actions. Watershed manipulation has helped support agriculture, energy and population growth. We grow crops and raise cattle in many places that we could not naturally raise them. Farmers and ranchers rely on the irrigation from rivers and aquifers to water the crops or grass for pasture. Farmers relied heavily on irrigation this past summer when severe drought struck the Midwestern United States. Without the use of irrigation, there would be a shortage in the food supply that could potentially cause a price shock and hurt the economy. Additionally, the creation of dams has provided significant amounts of hydroelectricity. This has helped power the United States without burning additional fossil fuels. Dams have also allowed a build-up of water that can be used for municipal uses with a growing population. Watershed manipulation and use has helped propel the United States into an economic powerhouse.

However, many of these manipulations are not sustainable. They have been provided economic benefits since their creation, but now we are starting to see the negative effects they have and their limited life. Pringle argues that the municipal growth and drought will be two major challenges to freshwater resources. Much of this growth will occur in the arid West, where there is room to grow. With a growing population and increasing demand, we are manipulating and using water at an unsustainable rate. After reading Pringle’s article, I can see that we have already changed and adversely affected man watersheds, which also affects areas downstream. I believe that the lack of clean freshwater will be one of the biggest issues my generation will face as we age. I think we have viewed water as a completely renewable resource. We are just starting to realize the damages of our actions.

Dealing with a lack of freshwater and damaged aquatic and riparian ecosystems with be a challenge, in addition to other environmental issues, such as climate change or deforestation. How should we deal water? The answer will likely be multiple synergistic solutions. Education will certainly be a huge part of the answer. Why not educate children about these issues? Taylor had an interesting experience teaching children how water and pollution move through a watershed. If children are educated about water and other environmental issues, even at a basic level, then at least children will be cognizant of these issues at a young age and their knowledge and concern can grow from there. An example of a more direct, extreme example is dam removal. Many dams were built for the for water diversion, agriculture and factories, but some are no longer useful. The Elwha Dam in Washington was recently removed in 2012. The healing process is lengthy, but the river will be restored. If nothing else, drastic removal projects bring needed attention to watershed issues.

Although rivers like the James have dramatically improved their terrible pollution since the 1980’s, we still have much to strive for. It is possible that many people are overestimating the impacts of our actions. Ecosystems could be more resistant than we thought. In central Texas, we have dammed the rivers, but now we have lakes that support a large amount of aquatic and riparian species. Can we say that this “created” ecosystem is worse than the natural one would be? Additionally, environmentalism is a relatively new concept in modern society, so maybe we are just now figuring out what we need to do to be sustainable. We started with cleaning up rivers, now we might be moving onto restoring the nature of watersheds. However, it is critical to remember the uncertainty of these statements. We really do not know how much we have affected ecosystems and we do not know the consequences. We have changed the hydrological landscape at an unprecedented scale. The uncertainty is scary and too important to chance. Clean water is critical to our ecosystems and survival. We are fortunate to have a relatively natural James River, but as Jenni noted, I too was struck by how we sliced a new shorter path in the James, which completely changed that whole section of the river. An example as drastic as that reminds us to cherish our watersheds and keep them as natural and healthy as possible.

Be sure to watch this video on dam removal if you missed it above!

Thinking back on a little more than a month spent in Geography of the James, I came to realize the extent to which I failed to regard the body of water that is at the center of our campus with any importance.  Last year, even last semester, I looked out across Westhampton Lake with indifference.  To me, it was unnatural, man-made, so any aesthetic beauty it may have had was undermined by that fact in my mind.  It wasn’t really natural, I thought, so it wasn’t really beautiful.  On top of that, I believed that it was somehow wholly disconnected from the surrounding ecosystem, being man-made.  Looking back, I realized I must have thought this way because I had never actually seen the creek that fed into the lake, and never really noticed the spillway that was hidden behind the commons.  Aside from that, I guess my perception of its “unnaturalness” is what blinded me from seeing that Westhampton Lake is actually an important part of the Little Westham Creek watershed and the larger James River watershed.

The focus of our first couple classes, Westhampton Lake and its watershed, not only helped me take in an understanding of this specific body of water but also of water as a whole, and how important it is to the people who depend on it.  Taking a walk around campus, around the lake, with the class and looking up close at this body of water and how it connected and flowed within the surrounding watershed got me to care about our lake that much more.  On top of that, spending time alone looking closely at the lake, taking in whatever detail I could and writing about it in my reflective blog post further solidified this water’s importance in my mind.  The fact that it was man-made no longer undermined the role it played as part of the surrounding ecosystem and community.

My changing feelings about Westhampton Lake, I think, illustrates the greater appreciation for water I have gained since that first Geography of the James class.  Many of the readings for class have had to do with this, that water is not only a shaper of the physical land, carving out earth and cleaving stone, but also a shaper of human communities that find themselves forever attached to it, relying on it for their existence.  Considering the history of the James, especially, rivers have been the focal point of human settlement for thousands of years.  Chapters from In River Time focused on this to a great extent.

The connection between a human community and the body of water that serves as its figurative life-source has intrigued me even before class started.  When Earth Lodge went down to the James to float lazily downriver on tubes, there were quite a few people other than us who were enjoying the river.  Some were kayaking, some were sunbathing on the rocks, and others were enjoying the water itself.  Here I got my first taste of the ways that people interacted with the James; I was one of them.  Learning more about the history of human populations around the James from class, as well as the relationship between the modern city of Richmond and the James, got me thinking about the river that lies some fifteen miles or so from where I live in Minnesota; the Mississippi.  In my third blog post, I compared the city of Minneapolis and its relationship to the Mississippi to the city of Richmond and its relationship to the James.  In the end, I concluded that these two cities, situated similarly in the geographic sense, nonetheless had inherently different relationships with their respective rivers.  Even though I have spent less time in Richmond, I felt that its relationship with its river was more human, more deep, than the relationship between Minneapolis and the Mississippi.  For Richmond, the James is not just a landmark, and not something to be exploited for energy or easy waste disposal (although you could say it has had its fair share of abuse over the years).  The James is a very appreciated and integral part of Richmond; at least, that’s what it seems to me.

And I was not the only one who was reminded of home when learning about the relationship between Richmond and the James.  Many lodgers had posts about their home community’s connection with the water around it, whether it was a large river or a small creek.  It was really cool to read how they personally or their community was connected to the water – it just further solidified in my mind how important the relationship to water is for every human being on the planet.

My most recent blog post as of now was about an article we read for class that intrigued me from the moment I looked at the title – “Urban Myths.”  I had always believed, and thought I was right to believe, that cities were nothing but an ecological dead-zone.  They were a monstrous example of what human beings were capable of doing to the earth.  Cities were monumentally dirty; they expulsed unquantifiable amounts of waste – human, industrial or otherwise – right into the surrounding air or the nearest water source.  In no way were they anything close to eco-friendly, so I thought.  Then I read “Urban Myths.”  This article had the nerve to argue the exact opposite of what I thought, what seemed like the logical truth of the matter: that cities were, in fact, the most eco-friendly of human settlements.  After reading through it though, it actually made quite a bit of sense.  Humans living in close proximity naturally use fewer resources and produce less waste.  Even though the amount of waste is very large, it simply comes from the amount of people.

The idea that cities are the most “green” of places also reinforces the importance of the relationship between a human population and the water around it.  Clearly, we still have a long way to go in the sense that more people need to become more aware of the water that is so important to them whether they realize it or not.  If only everyone were to share the appreciation of this relationship that I have come to have over these past few months.  Surely, I think, people would do what they could to protect and continue such a relationship.

When I began Earth Lodge, I didn’t expect to love the class as much as I do. I was super excited about the camping, hiking, outdoors aspect of this Living Learning community, so that somewhat overshadowed the whole academic side.  I assumed that I would enjoy the class, but I didn’t realize that it not only helps our Earth Lodge community to grow even stronger, but I’ve also learned so much about the James river and my hometown.  Because we are learning about the city near where I grew up, this class has a very personal aspect for me as well.  I feel that I’ve grown not only as a member of Earth Lodge, but also as a Richmonder (Proud to be a Richmonder).  Every class, I learn something new about a place that I thought I knew so well.  Over my past year and a half on campus, I never knew about the Gambles Mill Trail, how close the campus was to the river, or the beautiful creek that existed behind the Commons.  Also, over my past fifteen years in Richmond, I had only been to the river a handful of times and didn’t know anything about the city other that the history, the art, science, and children’s museums, and that Maymont and Carytown were a popular places to go on a warm Saturday.

This semester so far has been so full of great experiences and being in Earth Lodge simply amplifies them.  For example, now that I have finally declared my International Studies major, I feel as though all my classes are interconnected, even with the Geography of the James River Watershed.  I’m taking one class as a prerequisite for my major called Human Geography which discusses demography and how humans relate to their environments.  TLB was a guest speaker for this class and talked about perspectives of wilderness and how that can affect how people treat that wilderness (Wilderness).  Although I couldn’t really identify specifically with one of the viewpoints that were discussed, I remember having the adventurous feeling of the frontiersman and the awestruck feeling of the romantic during our fall break trip when we were surrounded by nature.  However I also am a firm believer in the fact that an element of wilderness is present in every living thing, and therefore agree with the “homebody” view.  Seeing the beauty of the water in the creek leading to Westhampton lake, even with the styrofoam cup floating in it and other traces of human life surrounding it, showed me that nature is everywhere (Westhampton Ecosystem).  Although the lake is manmade, in that it was dug by humans, the water flowing through it, the sediment at the bottom, and the ducks swimming in it were not made by people.  There is still wilderness even in the middle of our very paved and constructed campus.

Since becoming a part of Earth Lodge, my view of nature has been drastically changed.  I had always had a love of nature.  When I was little, I loved exploring the woods surrounding my home, discovering animals in my backyard, and hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains with my family.  However, I had not had many of these experiences of getting lost in nature since elementary school and my memory was foggy.  Going on trips with Earth Lodge has sparked my love of the outdoors again and showed me again how wonderful it is to appreciate nature for what it is.  The tubing trip on the James allowed me to take in my surroundings at a leisurely pace and see how beautiful the river was and how gentle it could be.  I remember spotting some kind of huge bird flying over, feeling the thrill of how inherently wild and uncontrollable the river was as it took me over rocks, and seeing the dazzling colors of the dragonflies.  The feeling I got when I made those observations was very similar to the one I felt when I stood at the top of Linville Gorge, marvelled over the transparency of the water in the swimming hole at one of our campsites, and hiked through a sea of green, moss-covered trees near the top of Mount Mitchell.  The fact that I can’t even fully describe what I was feeling at that moment makes me realize how amazing wilderness is.

Even on campus, sitting in my reflection spot in the gazebo, I get these same feelings (The Gazebo).  I love the concept of a reflection spot because I like to reflect on my life a lot, and sometimes it can get overwhelming.  When I have a place I can go to specifically to do that, it helps my reflection to be more thorough and fills me with a sense of calm, as I look at the beauty of the lake and the trees.  I have had some of those awesome moments that I had at the top of mountains in that gazebo as well, when I saw my first shooting star, watched the sunset, and listened to nature with my fellow Lodgers.  During that discussion of the wilderness surrounding us, I felt so connected with the people that live in my hall.  Community is another huge part of living in Earth Lodge and since the class has started, I feel like we have connected so much more.  We have explored nature together and learned together, and we are all getting excited about the James together.  The relationships I’ve built and am continuing to build within Earth Lodge have been so special to me, and I love that we all have that similar excitement about nature.  Especially during the interviews for next year’s Earth Lodge, and talking to the interviewees about what Earth Lodge is and  aspects of the program that we enjoy, I realized how close we all have become over the past semester and the beginning of this one.  I’m so thankful to be a part of this living learning community, and I can’t wait for whatever this semester has in store.

This semester has truly been a whirlwind of discovery and shifting perspectives. It began with the unearthing of Little Westham Creek, then continued to delve deeper beneath the surface. I was introduced to watersheds and buffers, and even had the chance to interact with Andrew McBride, the University Architect, who is responsible for the implementation of almost everything on campus including buffers. Previously when I saw a tree or a bush, I saw only a plant, put in its respective location solely for aesthetic purposes. Now that gap between naturally and purposefully placed vegetation was less clear. Was a plant occupying this space because it was in its natural habitat or was it placed there to fulfill a specific purpose with regards to protecting soil, air, or water quality? In contrast, I also had the chance to see beautiful works of art molded by the raw power of nature. In addition, I learned to see the wilderness in a new light. Rather than a specific location, or terrain type, wilderness can be thought of as a state of mind, something that is imposed on landscapes we believe to hold wilderness-like qualities. Finally, I found myself reflecting on what it meant to label a place as “home.” What does home mean to me? How is it linked to my perception of wilderness?

My perception of home shifted with the discovery of Little Westham Creek. (ref my blog post)Based on blog posts, such as Kevin Alloway’s, A Secret Stream I’m sure others were shocked upon uncovering this feature. When people speak of their home, they speak of a place they love and are comfortable with; above all, they speak of a place they know well. At this point in my college career I undoubtedly considered Richmond my home; therefore, upon the discovery of the creek, I was almost ashamed I had not known about its existence. My ignorance led me to believe I had no right to call Richmond my home.

I foolishly believed that after spending a meager year at Richmond I was quite familiar with it. Among my friends and family at home (Fairfield, CT) I was even considered an expert. When I thought about how I acquired my self-proclaimed knowledge, it seems quite silly that they would consider me a subject of authority. The process of familiarizing myself with Richmond started my junior year of high school. Prior to applying I gained a basic knowledge of the city area, and campus itself (the James River was a major selling point!) Once I was accepted I researched more, almost obsessively. I wanted to know everything there was to know about this place. Looking back this makes sense because people have a natural tendency to be familiar with the area they are/will be living in.  When I finally arrived at Richmond I was able to explore some “major” landmarks firsthand, such as Pony Pasture, Belle Isle, and Carry Town.

Yet, I have humbly realized that while I have amassed a certain degree of knowledge about this place I call home, I have only just brushed the surface. Yes I can tell you my favorite restaurant or how to drive to the river, yet previously I would not have been able to direct you to a small creek that is literally minutes from my dorm. I would not have been able to tell you that the University of Richmond campus is part of the Little Westham Creek water shed, which is part of the larger Middle James River watershed, which in turn is part of the Chesapeake Bay watershed. I have truly been blind to an entire world, and the means by which it is constructed and operates.  For instance, I was never aware that buffer selection and placement was truly a science.

I never realized how much thought went into creating a place.  Yet, I suppose that is the point, to take something that requires the integration of multiple variables and create what we perceive to be a simple garden. The seemingly effortless placement of shrubs could, in reality, have been meticulously planned to perform a variety of functions including, to reduce erosion and runoff of sediments, as well as to remove pollutants and nutrients from the water. Furthermore, several factors go in to choosing the right buffer such as width, terrain, buffer area ratio, slope and soil type. For instance, the new landscaping outside the library was designed to soak up high amounts of water to prevent erosion.

We also had the opportunity to meet with Andrew McBride, the University of Richmond Architect who helped implement these designs. Every campus addition or alteration is carefully thought out. Energy expenditure, format, target group, and availability of space are factors master plan committee members must address. This enables the University of Richmond to not only be a physical place, but to also be a genuine community.

Many objects are placed with thought and meaning intricately hidden in their seemingly simplistic designs. Paradoxically many impossibly complicated designs are the result of raw nature, and a little luck. I’ve encountered unbelievable sights such as the delicate icicles at the James River in the wake of powerful flooding, (ref. my blog post) and the geometric ice patterns found on Westhampton Lake. (ref. my blog post) These occurrences can be summed up in one word, wild.

While there is no doubt they are wild, it is undeniable that they are in the midst of human civilization. The James is a thriving social spot, and the Westhampton Lake is in the middle of our college campus! So then, how is it possible these sights and places can truly be “wild?”

Cronnan attempts to reconcile these clashing views of wilderness and civilization in his essay, The Trouble with Wilderness.  He explains that rather than being completely and utterly removed from humanity, wilderness is in fact created by humanity. It is not a set place; rather it is a state of mind people project onto their surroundings. He further articulates,

“A person with a clear heart and open mind can experience the wilderness anywhere on earth. It is a quality of one’s own consciousness. The planet is a wild place and always will be. To think ourselves capable of causing “the end of nature” is an act of great hubris, for it means forgetting the wildness that dwells everywhere within and around us” (Cronnan, 43).

If wilderness is simply a state of mind, it has the potential to be present anywhere. We don’t need to go to vast majestic places to see wonder, we can glimpse wonder in our own backyards (or campus). In her blog post, The Gazebo, Abby explains how she is able to feel connected to nature at the Gazebo on campus. While this is clearly a manmade structure, when sitting inside you cannot help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace and greater connection to the outdoors. In her blog post, A Walk By the Lake, Jules talks about the many facets of the lake, and how the act of simply lying on your back against the bricks at night has the ability to transform this ordinary lake into an incredible phenomena.

I had a similar experience after returning from our fall break trip. On the trip we had the chance to see a giant loblolly pine. This was the largest tree I had ever seen, and it was incredible. Yet, as we were driving into campus I was suddenly aware of loblollies all around me. It was amazing. I had driven the drive into campus countless times, yet it was like I was seeing the loblollies for the first time, and in a sense I was. Before, they were simply trees, now they were still trees, but they meant something more because I could connect them to the giant pine I saw. Walking around campus I experienced the same set of euphoria. Loblollies were everywhere, and I was in awe. I was seeing UR from a new lens and I was proud I knew a little more about my campus.

A mixture of scrupulous planning and inherent physical qualities coalesce to form this place we call home.  The adjective we use to describe this place is merely a state of mind, a projection of our ordered thoughts onto a disordered world. Home, like wilderness is dynamic. It is constantly adapting to adhere to our evolving perspective. Today my home is Fairfield CT, some days it is the University of Richmond. Other times it is lakeview, additional times it is simply the beach.

Home, like the wilderness is something that will always be. They are intricately linked with human kind, yet at the same time completely transcendent.

There was a day this summer when the first half of the new Hugenot Bridge was completed and the last car passed over the old Hugenot Bridge. However, that car was not the last thing to pass over the bridge before the construction crew began demolition. Instead the bridge was blocked off and opened up to pedestrians, to come and walk the bridge one last time. Chalk was provided and countless people wrote what they loved about the bridge, how many times they had passed over it, how large a part it had played in their lives, and so on. Then there was this message:

<a href=”http://tinypic.com?ref=kw5c3″ target=”_blank”><img src=”http://i45.tinypic.com/kw5c3.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”Image and video hosting by TinyPic”></a>

(too many pictures so I can’t post mine)

Anyone who has been to my Facebook knows that this picture has been my cover photo since that day. This message was the moment I too realized what I loved about Richmond, Virginia, or RVA as we affectionately call it. I love the old buildings covered in murals, I love the former industrial island turned into the jewel of the James River Park System, I love the canal walk, and I love the refocusing of the city around the James River.

As I read through my blog posts for this synthesis post I identified two distinct themes: identifying and celebrating forgotten spaces, and healing a space to create a new place of significance and community. In my first posts I discovered and treasured the forgotten space where water flows into the Westhampton Lake near K lot. In another post I reflect on the decaying infrastructure remaining on Belle Isle and how it serves as a symbol of the James River Park System. Finally I recounted my experience volunteering at William Byrd Community House and how I felt I was healing the earth to create a beautiful place of community. These two underlying themes of my post reflect important topics of our class and Earth Lodge as a whole.

Creating place is often an intentional process that begins with identifying a space and looking at its possibilities. You can identify a forgotten corridor of trees and think of what a great reflection spot it could be, or you can identify a vacant lot and envision a garden and community green space. In our readings we have learned a great deal about the importance of green space in urban areas, particularly small parks. To some, small parks may seem like just a small area, but when you look at the larger picture small parks help create corridors between larger wilderness areas to facilitate habitat development and animal migration. To borrow a phrase from my econ classes, there are external benefits to parks and green space that should be recognized in order to increase our demand for them in our communities. When we recognize the external benefits of a space we can begin the process of transforming it into a place of value and significance.

In this vein someone had to see the opportunity for recreational spaces along the James River, even on places like Bell Isle with old infrastructure lying around. By envisioning the James River Park System as a living interactive monument to the past as well as gateway to the future, visionaries like Ralph White have created an exciting system of parks unique to our city. Instead of fencing places off or spending thousands of dollars of costly cleanup, time and energy were put into turning the spaces surrounding old bridges, factories, and pipelines into beautiful, natural green spaces. This duality of old and new, industrial and natural is what fascinates me about urban agriculture and led me to volunteer at William Byrd Community House.

William Byrd Community House is an old library in the Oregon Hill neighborhood, near VCU downtown. The library has been turned into a community resource, providing preschool programs, after school programs, a resource library, a food bank, community garden, farmer’s market, and an urban farmlet to help enrich the community. On the farmlet WBCH grows fresh food to supplement the non-perishable food donated to the food bank. However, the farm area is not the only green space associated with WBCH. Matthew, the farmlet manager, works hard to create shady green spaces filled with edible plants for the children to experience a small piece of nature. In addition last week I worked with him to create swales on an eroded bank to help the sun baked soil absorb more water and prevent runoff. The experience reminded me of our class, particularly when Matthew mentioned several street swales he had seen in Portland, Oregon, identical to the ones in our reading. He sees his job as not just growing food, but repairing the land surrounding William Bryd Community House to be a bright urban green space in a sea of concrete. We planted cuttings of several plants from the James River that provided excellent sources of food for migratory birds and butterfly larva. Seeing his vision of transforming William Byrd Community House into this meaningful community space provided inspiration for the future of Earth Lodge in Atlantic House.

When we first considered the idea of moving to Atlantic House I was excited about the community aspects of living in a house together. However, after that initial excitement of redesigning the inside of Atlantic House, we began to envision how we could transform the surrounding land. We could plant an herb garden to accompany our new kitchen, and even better, an organic garden with composting bins beside it. After my experiences at William Byrd I have begun to think of how we could plant native berries and other plants that might attract wildlife to the area. We can improve water absorption in soil so even more plants can grow around the house or do countless other projects.

How else can Earth Lodge become a force of revitalization and enrichment upon the land we live on? One of the biggest issues of the environmental movement is the belief that an individual’s actions don’t really matter, but Earth Lodge can become a space to prove the impact that individual actions can have in transforming the Earth, one place at a time. Unfortunately, I will not be one of the lodgers living in Atlantic House. It may be up to next year and future generations to create a beautiful place, but we can still envision a future for Atlantic House so it can fully live up to the name Earth Lodge.