Geography of the James (Earth Lodge)

Water is such a simple, complex and omnipresent element of the earth’s existence. The world’s oceans cover almost 70% of the earth’s surface and rivers play an integral role in their health by dumping fresh water into these salty reserves. Water is in a constant cycle through country sides, across political borders and throughout the atmosphere from country to country. Something so central, such as the Westhampton Lake, appears to be simple and static aspect of campus, but it is a dynamic life force in which the campus surrounds.

I basically grew up on the water. As a kid I spend uncountable hours on lakes, rivers and the ocean. Between fishing, swimming and wakeboarding, I became very familiar with the different bodies of water around Austin and beyond. Until recently, I had failed to ask the basic questions of my watershed. Where did all this water come from and where does it go?

I know that the water in the Westhampton Lake comes from somewhere and then leaves, but I had not put much thought into asking these basic questions. Exploring the lake with the class elucidated these questions and inspired more. I now know that two creeks feed the Westhampton Lake and I know the general direction of these creeks, but where do they start? For the first time, Google Earth failed me. This creek is a little too small to follow using this powerful tool. However, I know the creeks go straight through busy neighborhoods, which leaves plenty of room to shape of our water shed.

I believe most people on campus would say that the lake is disgusting. The Lake appears nasty, but I cannot say for sure just how bad it is. I can say that however dirty the lake it, it certainly is not just from the campus activities. It could easily be from urban runoff throughout the neighborhoods.

My experience exploring the Westhampton Lake ended with more questions than answers, but the experience allowed me to understand the complexity of this small water shed. Just seeing the creek pumping swift water into the Lake reminded me of how much water must be leaving the lake. This central feature of campus that we see every day is likely poorly understood by most of the campus’s residence. The water is constantly moving and being affected by forces outside of this campus. Although the Lake is on our property, it does not mean we are truly in control of it.

In our first class we mentioned how everyone perceives the orientation of our campus differently.  Throughout the week I’ve been trying to figure out how I personally view the campus and the one thing I’ve realized is that to me everything seems to revolve around the lake.  It clearly separates the two sides of campus and whenever I’m giving directions orientation to the lake is generally mentioned.  When I show visitors our campus I like to take them to the gazebo and have the do the “upside down lake” on the bridge of the commons at night.  Every day I am surprised by how beautiful the lake make our campus.

When we were asked to explore the lake and the creeks that feed into it I decided to observe where the two creeks from residential neighborhoods flowed into together and then ran into the lake.  The largest flow of water clearly came from neighborhoods up hill and flowed in the lake with great force likely carrying with it sediment from the areas upstream.  When I turned to walk up the hill towards campus buildings I noticed that with all the rain that was happening that week there was a small stream of water that was draining into the lake from water on the hillside.  I followed this flow of water all the way up to the baseball fields.  This raised a concern in my mine over the method in which the University cares for the baseball field.  If potentially toxic chemicals are used on the field to keep the grass green and then rainwater is channeled into the stream downhill then that could lead to contamination levels in the lake.  Similarly, this got me thinking about what types of chemicals are being used in the residential neighborhoods across from campus that also might be ending up in the lake.  Even though Westhampton Lake is man-made it is still an ecosystem that holds many species of plants and animals and it was very eye opening to realize how much the actions in other areas away from the lake itself could really have an impact on the lake’s ecosystem.

Walking along the creek toward Westhampton Lake, I took no notes and instead tried to interact with my surroundings as if without external purpose. I had seen the other creek and further up this one, but had never been along the little hillside where our walk began. Watching and listening and breathing and moving, I was struck by a very general sense of welcomeness, and it was an important reminder. I’d spent my fair share of time outdoors over break, but already in the time I’d been back at school I was feeling jam-packed, and I hadn’t spent much time at all reuniting with the greens and blues and browns we’re so lucky to have on our campus. But the gurgling water (less so without an incline to propel it, I learned) and the moss and the wet leaves were so inviting; it was a great comfort to remember that no matter how busy I get with school and how far away I feel from the nature that’s constantly so close, it will always, always welcome me back. I love that a major component of the EL class experience is welcoming nature into our lives in equal measure, actively taking time to enfold ourselves in it and reflect.
As we walked, I was also thinking within the context of a class on moving water and its importance in the fabric of human communities. And another comfort came to me in the awareness that our affinity for water lies, in part, in the moving water that comprises our own bodies almost entirely. Economy and nourishment and recreation aside, a river feels so central to the way we live because of this deep and unbreakable connection. A filmy creek, a man-made and bike-filled lake, the James—each of these is a joy to discover because it represents a common element uniting all living things, which surpasses all divisions and sustains our existing together. The James gives us water to drink, a physical community center, good publicity, and more, and I’m continually impressed so far by the extent of Richmond’s appreciation for all of these. We seek in return, generally, to care for this force that sustains us. But it’s invigorating and maybe also very important to remember this less practical reason to appreciate the river at the heart of our city—it’s an image of our unity and, in fact, that unity extends not just between all human Richmonders but between us and the James itself.

On the first day of class we took a field trip to explore our little watershed, the Westham Creek watershed. As we made our way to the “top” of the watershed on campus I thought about how little we knew about the water cycle within the small piece of land we will eventually spend four years of our lives living, working, and playing on. Dr. Lookingbill explained that runoff from the surrounding neighborhoods as well as the County Club of Virginia made up the watershed that also encompasses our campus. Most water enters through two creeks on opposite ends of the Westhampton Lake, near the gazebo, and then flows under commons and reforms the Westham Creek before it joins the James.

Dr. Lookingbill left us to explore and observe the water features for a few minutes before finally making our way back to the classroom. As I walked along the creek I thought about how few students had ever actually seen the creek I was now standing beside. It is safely tucked away behind the baseball fields, at the very end of K lot. No one would venture that far back to park. I have noticed construction equipment parked at the end, so I suppose maintenance people have seen it. There was a slightly dilapidated pitching net back there too, so the baseball team could have caught of glimpse of the area too. Maybe there are some students who go for walks and veer of the intended trails to discover this small space.

How many other parts of our campus are like this? Seldom unexplored areas forgotten because they are not on a path. It is a scary thought to realize how well we stick to the paths created for us. Yet there are there are also paths throughout campus where students walk over and over again, creating their own paths. Eventually UR recognizes these paths and they are added into the network of bricks connecting our dorms to classes to dining areas to favorite study spots. So perhaps it is scary that we walk past these forgotten places like the creek without recognizing them, but by not seeing them we are preserving them for those who might decide to seek out the unexplored.

If you asked anyone on campus why they decided to come to UofR, I am quite sure that virtually everyone would say that one of their top reasons is our campus. Our lives revolve around the Westhampton Lake; most of us cross it everyday, and whether we realize it or not, its beauty unites us all. The lake plays a pivotal role in our everyday, yet before Wednesday very few of us had explored its perimeters, and even fewer had any idea where its water comes from. Our campus is a closely manicured lawn that zigzags through moist pockets of lush wetland. Regardless of the the enticement these pockets provide, why is it that few of us ever penetrate their thin barriers?

As we walked along the northern creek that feeds the lake, the first thing I noticed is how close the neighborhoods are to campus. As we talked about in class, the creek acts as a definite border to our campus. The road beyond seems to only further reinforce the border, its asphalt dripping down the eroded creek bank at places, coming to a rest just at the water’s surface. Although the water was high on Wednesday (it may have been the highest I’d ever seen it, several of the trees’ trunks were submerged in the lazy current), it is typically little more than a few feet deep, and in many places can be hopped across. I have jogged around campus since freshman year, but it wasn’t until last semester that I ever ventured beyond that creek.

I encourage everyone to find an activity that forces you into the more obscure parts of our campus: Frisbee golf, running, sketchy drug deals (kidding obviously)… But really, find a reason to regularly walk through the woods across the lake or to follow the creek off campus. You’ll find exciting places, some neighborhood parks, bizarre bamboo forests, and much more. But even more importantly, you’ll develop a deeper understanding of the environment you move through everyday.

As I traipsed among the soggy leaves along the edge of the creek feeding into Westhampton Lake, my observations were numerous: the cloak of moss enveloping the rocks, the way the water parted around debris and then came to reunite again, the abandoned Keen shoe submerged in the damp leaves, the way the bubbles floated along the surface of the water only to disappear in the blink of an eye, the sound of the rushing water interrupted by the sound of rushing cars…

As I walked from where we started towards where the creek slowly became the lake, there was one thing that stuck in my mind. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between man and nature. Despite the fact that we were a decent trek from the nearest UR building, there was evidence of man everywhere: the lost shoe, the Styrofoam cup floating along the bank, the pipes, the countless cars passing by. I wondered how the inhabitants of the creek were affected by man’s presence; were they startled as each car rushed by? were they intrigued by the abandoned shoe? what would happen when the one Styrofoam cup turned into 20 Styrofoam cups? I also wondered what the creek could become without the presence of man; would the water be clearer? would the creatures come out and reveal themselves?

These ponderings reminded me how much of a one-sided relationship man has with nature. In a way it’s a type of unrequited love; nature doesn’t need us, nature would be so much better without us, but what would we do without nature? Without that creek, we wouldn’t have Westhampton Lake. Without Westhampton Lake, what would campus be centered around? There would be no geese to harass us, no trees to climb, and no grass to run barefoot in. It is incredibly difficult to fathom the idea of the absence of nature, but I think it is something that we should all attempt to do. It makes us appreciate nature for all that it is and it makes us want to preserve that; to pick up the abandoned shoe, and to retrieve the floating Styrofoam. Nature replenishes us, energizes us, and consoles us; perhaps we could find a way to return the favor.

Here’s a quote from Anne Frank that I really like about what nature does for us:

“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be … As longs as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.”