Geography of the James (Earth Lodge)

In my blog posts thus far, I notice that I have spent a considerable amount of time evaluating the significance of places and creatures that I may not have ordinarily commented upon. I would not venture to say that an attention to the previously overlooked is new to me, but I do find it interesting that so many of my posts attempt to shed light on the neglected. Perhaps my excitement about undervalued spaces, such as the Gambles Mill Trail, are direct results of taking a geography class, or maybe I just find it more interesting to examine the unexamined. Regardless, I always enjoy the opportunity to verbalize my thoughts about things, as I feel that the process helps me to understand my true feelings. Because of this, reflecting about my blog posts has allowed me to understand the ways in which I have developed and attempted to define my own posting style.

From reading posts like Shannon’s “Falling in Love After the Rain” and Kelly’s “Three Trees,” I have been more attentive to the beauty around me. They both have found a way to channel their natural awareness to the beauty of the world into their weekly posts, which I admire and hope to develop. From reading posts like Mark’s, I’ve become aware of how much more thorough I could be in my background research, or at least the ways in which I present my information. His post “An Urban River Revival?: A Response Letter to the New York Times” reminded me of how much more specific and in depth I could make my posts.

Something that I have not brought up but that I have often considered when writing my blog posts is the way that we have learned to control our surroundings, and what effect this has on the way that we speak about our surroundings. Looking back on my blog posts, I wish that this thought had come up more, as I think about it so often and as other lodgers’ posts have often triggered this thought. The contrast between the language used by other lodgers writing about the Gambles Mill Trail demonstrates that even when writing about the same space, we can have different perceptions of our impact. Mike and Kelin both mentioned the beauty of the highly manicured golf course to the left of the trail, which, in contrast to the overgrown brush on the right, appears far more orderly and picturesque to our eyes. I understand their viewpoints, especially as the right side of the trail is fraught with invasive species, but I still find it notable that we assign worth to the meticulous and trim—marks of human involvement—and disregard the “unkempt” and “mangled. In the comment that I made on my post “Gambles Mill Musings,” I wrote about the concrete confines of the creek behind the commons, which is another area that is easy to overlook, but which speaks volumes about the way we treat natural systems in our environment. Literally stream-lining will not achieve the same effect that a natural stream would have, even if the water continues to flow. The comment I made on my blog about this small, mistreated part of campus could have been developed into a much more substantial study of the ways in which we handle the water around us. I feel that this is a subject about which I should have considered writing already, as I would be able to apply what I’ve learned in class to explore the topic.             Reflecting on our insistent, and often unnecessary, control of nature, and of water in particular, I am reminded of a quote from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, in which Dillard parallels the freedom of spiritual leaders’ minds and the ways in which we control our environment.

“The world’s spiritual geniuses seem to discover universally that the mind’s muddy river, this ceaseless flow of trivia and trash, cannot be dammed, and that trying to dam it is a waste of effort that might lead to madness. Instead you must allow the muddy river to flow unheeded in the dim channels of consciousness.” (Dillard 32)

This quote suggests that there is a parallel between allowing a thought process to take shape and allowing a river to direct its own natural and formidable path. I think that the post in which I succeeded to the greatest degree in allowing my thoughts to flow naturally was the post I did about my sit-spot as I was able to think concretely about the effect that that specific place has on me.

Posting on the Earth Lodge blog has provided me with the opportunity to explore a number of different topics, all relating to some element of our Earth Lodge experience. Because of this, looking back on my own posts and those of others, I have been able to consider the different areas of exploration and growth that we have touched on as a group. As we have such a wide scope of interests—a fact that we acknowledge and embrace—even our posts about the same topic vary greatly. From reading other lodgers’ posts as the semester has progressed, I’ve already picked up on ways to improve my own, which is one valuable element of blogging as opposed to turning in papers directly to a teacher. Especially as we are a living and learning community, I have been finding that such an open forum as a blog provides us with a way to share our perspectives in a thoughtful way outside the classroom.

We live today in a world where it’s difficult to acknowledge connectivity—to step back and look at the “big picture.”  It’s all too easy to fall into our isolated routines and lose a sense of what the implications of our beliefs, our actions, and our collective existence itself really are.  This habitual inattention is most evident and most urgently detrimental in the case of environmental consciousness, or the lack thereof.  Though most have a very real understanding of which human practices are harmful to the environment, we all end up either neglecting to remain mindful of our impact or ignoring it altogether because accepting responsibility for our impact requires the inconvenience of change and the burden of sustained cognizance.  When all is said and done, many of us consciously or subconsciously consider ourselves too busy, our work too important, or our resources too scarce to practice or maintain environmental consciousness.

However, my intention here is not to weave an impassioned guilt trip to add to the pile of impassioned environmentalist guilt trips.  Instead, I want to argue that bolstering environmental consciousness is both personally beneficial and existentially valuable.  Taking the time and making the effort to enjoy and understand the natural world is endlessly advantageous to us practically and spiritually, and it allows us to better ourselves while bettering our environment. 

Recently, several of my Earth Lodge classmates volunteered their time to doing exactly this at the William Byrd Community Farmlet.  They spent the day weeding, building compost bins, and helping the small local farm better serve its purpose of producing and promoting fresh, organic food in inner-city Richmond.  After reading their reflections on the experience, it’s clear that while devoting their time and energy to support and help build our local community and environment they also each attained a certain personal enlightenment.  Lucy talked about connecting her experience to memories of welcoming spring with her mother and feeling a sense of freedom as a result.  Mike referenced experiencing the sensation that it was “refreshing to be alive.”  Nearly everyone cited the deep satisfaction that resulted from connecting physically with the earth on an intimate, visceral level.  Getting up, getting outside, and communing with the natural world became a way for them to return to a holistic, centered harmony that they expressed missing on a day-to-day basis.

An important part of finding that harmony is tied to the personal introspection that occurs both during and after communion with nature. The forum that the natural world provides for deep, meaningful, unencumbered thought is unmatched.  Personally, nature becomes a place where I can block out the web of trivialities that clogs my life and return to what’s most basic and important to me.  This opinion is echoed in my post entitled “The Secret Garden.”  In the post, I explained how being outside and paying attention to my natural surroundings becomes a way for me to reconnect with my spirituality.  When I have the opportunity to stop and look, listen, touch, and smell the sensations emanating from the environment, I encounter the manifest energy swirling around and through me.  Identifying this energy helps me remember my connectivity and locate my place in the world, and in this way my moments of purified introspection lead by interactions nature become paramount to my internal order and tranquility.

In most cases, this introspection goes beyond this personal enlightenment and results also in an increased overall environmental consciousness because one element of locating my place in the world involves gaining a greater understanding of the world I fit into.  In “The Call,” I explored the way in which the human race demonstrates a practical and spiritual dependence on the earth.  The example I used was a coastal community that continues to rebuild time and time again in an area ravaged by storm because the people that live there cannot break their ties to the sea.  In my opinion, they shouldn’t have to because although their way of life is less than economical, it reveals an acceptance of the undeniable supremacy of the forces of nature.  In the end, we are the custodians of a marvelous and powerful planet and it’s an absolute privilege to live amongst the majesty of Earth’s undulating natural forces.  We have the sacred opportunity to commune with these forces and it’s my belief that doing so enriches our human experience.

Taking care of the earth therefore becomes not only a responsibility, but a blessing.  As conventionally touted, environmentalism is important because we’re severely damaging the natural world.  Becoming aware of and stopping the destruction is important to the physical health and proliferation of the planet and our health in turn.  However, the importance of environmentalism goes further than that because as individuals, the first step in environmentalism—environmental consciousness—both requires and bolsters the achievement of a significant and satisfying personal awareness and peace. 

We’re all quite aware of the immediate and long-term risks of continuing to degrade our environment.  Environmental consciousness is something that needs to happen sooner rather than later if we plan to continue to live and thrive here as we have before.  We must change in order for things to stay the same, but that process of change doesn’t have to be painful.  If we achieve environmental consciousness, we can derive peace and awareness from the earth.  In turn, this can lead to an increased interest in the preservation of this gift, an increasingly healthy environment, and the serendipity of an increasingly positive circular flow from the earth to its disciples.  Here, the phenomenon of connectivity reveals itself at last.

Here’s a kooky song but it’s close to my heart.  Listen close, it’s about the “Green Man” or arguably a sort of “father Earth.”

Forever to him you’re tied

and you know for  a million years

he has been your father,

he’ll be a million more.

Change has a way of creeping up on me and surprising me when I least expect it. I don’t mean monumental life changes; more like subtle changes in perspective over time. I wouldn’t say my perspective changes from day to day or even from one week to the next. But nearly seven weeks into the semester, I realize that my overall outlook has changed a great deal since beginning Geography of the James. Mostly, I feel much more free from the daily hassles of college life that I formerly felt bogged down by. I no longer feel like I need to get off campus or stop doing schoolwork to be able to relax and appreciate my surroundings. I feel a deep sense of connection with and appreciation for the world around me. I attribute much of this to the weekly reflections I have been doing. I also think the readings I have done and the discussions I have participated in for our Earth Lodge literature circle have greatly impacted my perspective. For this post, I will discuss in greater detail some of the wonders I have enjoyed in the past few weeks, some of the readings that have enhanced my perspective on nature, and my increasing fascination with human-environment interactions.

We began this semester reading selections from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard. I was struck by Dillard’s ability to draw me into the natural world she was experiencing. I marveled at how observant she was and how she made it seem like nothing, from a passing shadow made by a cloud to the networks of bug tunnels constantly shifting in the Earth, was too simple or too small to warrant appreciation. In fact, it is the simplest aspects of nature that can provide the greatest beauty in our lives. In my first blog post, I reflected on my desire to feel more actively present in life by being more aware of my surroundings. I wanted to be able to experience the same joy described by Annie Dillard on a regular basis in my own life. Since making this commitment, I have been astounded at the beauty around me. I now frequently glance at the night sky to see how many stars are out. I pay attention to the way the air smells after a rain (perhaps in attempt to fall in love with my surroundings as Shannon did after our first trip to the Gambles Mill Trail http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/01/15/falling-in-love-after-the-rain/). I was giddy at the feeling of smallness I experienced in the presence of the millions of whirling snowflakes on my walk across campus during our first snowstorm of the year. These small gifts of nature have helped me gain a great sense of appreciation for the world around me. They have also allowed me to realize that the joy experienced from nature is far more satisfying and allows me to feel much more connected than my cell phone, facebook, and other technologies have. There is some comfort in the calming rhythms and harmony of nature, as Caroline shared with us in her blog post A Run Along the River (http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/01/26/a-run-along-the-river/). Through more active observation and participation, I am finding that my increased awareness of nature has increased my ability to tackle problems with a more balanced perspective than I did in the past.

Through my increased effort to feel connected with nature, I have found that my perceptions of the boundaries of nature have changed as well. I previously viewed nature as being removed from human influence to an extent. My new view of nature as being all around us rather than restricted to distant places is reflected in an essay I recently read. In “The Trouble with Wilderness; or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature,” William Cronin portrays wilderness as a human construction, which contributes to the problem of human-environment interactions. In order for wilderness to be a solution, we need to perceive nature as being ubiquitous, not confined to remote pockets of the planet. The American concept of wilderness has morphed from a terror-invoking, desolate wasteland, to a recreation spot for elite tourists to exercise consumption practices, to a heavenly sanctuary to be divvied up into tidy national parks. People tend to view nature as being wild and untouched by humans; however, Cronin argued that nature does not need to be “wild,” or remote to be legitimate. In fact, if human presence is perceived as the downfall of nature, there is no longer room for healthy human-environment interactions. In his perception-changing article, Cronin urged for the most responsible use of nature, rather than abusing what we use and romanticizing what we don’t, in order to achieve healthier human-environment interactions. By perceiving nature all around us, even if it is a small tree in a backyard, we will recognize that the healthiest human-environment interactions are possible when we desire to protect what is familiar.

In addition to an increased appreciation for nature, I have also gained an increased sense of involvement with the Richmond area. This has been aided by the community service aspect of our class. I mentioned this in my blog about spending a Saturday morning at the William Byrd Community House Farmlet. In addition to feeling like I am helping the Richmond community, I also feel an increased connection to the area encompassed by the entire James River Watershed. Through my increased appreciation for nature and sense of community involvement, I have gained a greater sense of joy in small things in everyday life. This has allowed me to feel removed from the stresses of college life.

While change can be startling at times, reevaluating my perspective more often has allowed me to observe smaller changes. I have realized that it is ok not to feel engaged with nature 100% of the time. I do not need to feel guilty if I become immersed in schoolwork or social interactions. My desire is to feel present and engaged in life, regardless of whether or not I am feeling actively connected with the natural world. As long as I periodically check in with the natural world around me, I feel as though I am getting more pleasure out of the simple aspects of everything I do.

Cronin, W. 2007. The Trouble with Wilderness; or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature in The Introductory Reader in Human Geography: Contemporary Debates and Classic Wrigings Eds. W. Moseley, D. Lanegran, and K. Pandit, 167-178. Blackwell Publishing, Malden MA.

Man…how to sum up this semester so far? Looking back through old blog posts, it is really cool just to see how good meditating on the outdoors has been, and how wonderfully needed it is to share with friends by your side. The wall of snowflakes approaching us at the Potomac? SO much less worth screaming about without a few of you at my side. Or how about walking the Belle Isle bridge with Civil War dates and events without y’all next to me making those giant steps? Not the same. Just as Chris McCandless discovers, happiness is meant to be shared, and this semester has been memorable so far sharing it together.

Looking back to our first discussions and walk on the Gambles Mill, it frustrates me that there is still a lack of answers in my own understanding of how we exactly fit with nature, and it is a balance I feel not only I, but our generation as a whole will be pursuing for many years to come. It is encouraging to see the tip of the iceberg begin to take shape, and it cheers me to think about what the future holds. For example, today, in Dhall, a Kellogg representative came to showcase new cereals they’re trying to sell. I was amazed and psyched to see that NONE of them had high fructose corn syrup or partially hydrogenated oils in them. In my (very basic) understanding of science, these are essentially creations of food corporations to make food cheaper, and have taken natural things (corn syrup and oil) and morphed them chemically into highly toxic substances that are highly detrimental to the human body. They are just a sliver of the problem of the “American way”- mass produced, lacking nutritional value, and all-together toxic, and it was encouraging to see a corporation as big as Kellogg beginning to change things. Our generation is peddling as fast as it can backwards to undo some of the major environmental blunders the previous generation has perpetrated nationally and internationally, and we are on the very cusp of it. That is what makes the class so relevant, because it is crucially pertinent how we treat the world around us.

Jared Diamond came out with a new book recently, Collapse, which is very relevant to this issue. His thesis of the book is that the success or failure of a society can come about through a variety of factors, one of them being environmental. There is an urgency to understanding the relationship between man and nature that upon it will be built future policy and the future of the United States and other countries. As we graduate, enter the job market, begin our professional lives, these are things to be considered. The “green” job sector is growing constantly, and the need for independent green consulting firms to help existing businesses wisen up is only going to go up as it becomes more and more necessary to be living in harmony with your surroundings. This can already be seen with some companies like Starbucks, who, although not stellar practitioners of environmental justice, have done some good things in raising awareness and setting an example for other large corporations. Check out their environmental policies here.

Adrienne makes an awesome point in her blog on this environmental impact- it is so intricately tied with our responsibility to be active in the community around us and being engaged citizens, and it spills over into other responsibilities as well. This is why it makes so much sense that TLB made it a requirement to do service learning- we as social creatures and creatures in community have a duty to be involved and constantly fighting apathy about the world around us. Also, taking environmental responsibility leads to taking ethical and moral responsibility for the world around us as well. Like the liberal arts, it’s all tied together! …Inter-relatedness is so wonderful.

Finally, in thinking further and attempting to synthesize all that I’ve written about so far this semester, I am still trying to put words to it. First of all, I am not a science person whatsoever and don’t experience the outdoors with that train of thought. I have tried, believe me, to get interested about things like the periodic table and cell structures, and have failed miserably. I am far more caught by the experience of nature and people with people in nature, and how it affects my soul and worship than I am by the science of it. I wish I could look at something like the snow, as Carolyn so wonderfully explained, and see the deeper processes churning underneath the fluffy exterior. However, it is really cool that we can both look at one thing so differently and appreciate it for entirely different reasons. I think one of the greatest lessons that I have mentioned earlier in this blog post and in others and that I keep running up against is this inability to be a passive agent any longer. WE are empowered, we are educated about what’s going on, we’ve seen the trash, the need for the community garden, the effects of man not living in harmony with the environment, what are we going to be doing about it? How are we going to fight apathy in all levels of our lives? It could manifest itself in a variety of ways, from humanitarian work like Kelly in Africa this summer to Adrienne being super pumped about SEEDS, our involvement and the need to do something to serve and live outside of yourself is a necessary response to our knowledge. MLK puts it beautifully: “He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.”

We have a responsibility to the world around us, dear friends. This is the greatest lesson I have synthesized from this semester so far.

In looking back through my old posts I began to detect a trend in my writing, and not one that I am particularly proud of. When first observing nature and the impact of the human influence, I seem to rush to condemn our species for wrongdoings that I assume. Perhaps I do so because I feel guilty about my own carbon footprint on the environment. Or maybe I am quick to make judgments because I have seen humans blamed so many times for the blight of our planet in the popular media. Looking back now I realize that I mustn’t equate all people to same no-good, environment-destroyer that I may see in the mirror or in the news. This is not to say that the overall human impact on our planet has not been overwhelmingly negative (I am not questioning that), but rather that perhaps I should take more care in learning all of the facts before jumping to conclusions about specific, localized examples of the human impact. To show what I mean by all of this I will refer back to my previous postings, starting with my very first blog about the Gambles Mill Trail.

In this blog entitled, “The Human Footprint”, I explored the phenomenon that I mentioned earlier about my carbon footprint, namely the impact that humans have on the environment and the tracks, literal and physical, that we leave behind. (see my post here: http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/01/17/gambles-mill-trail/#comments) Walking down the trail for the first time I was quick to notice, “…tire tracks, severed trees, manicured hills [the Virginia Country Club golf course], and barbed wire.” Now I do not take back some of the accusatory inquiries I made about the way humans treat nature, including the comparison of the attention paid to the uptake of the golf course to that of the litter strewn about the trail, however; I would like to make some revisions. As I began to do in my comment on the post, I do wish to re-evaluate the assumptions I made about the tire tracks, blue paint, etc. After heading down the trail for the second time, this time with TLB as our guide, I learned that these observations may have actually been signs of the recent efforts made by the university to upkeep and update the trail. Now with that view in mind I can see this evidence of construction as the markings of a positive human impact on the trail. I can be nothing but excited about the possibility of the trail becoming a better-known part of campus where students can get out to appreciate nature, as well as make their way over to Pony Pasture or even Starbucks. In my next post about my reflection spot I did seem to learn my lesson somewhat by refraining to jump to conclusions when I saw that this area had also been littered (http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/01/26/little-westham-creek-riffle-reflections-part-1/), but any progress I had made seemed to go by the wayside in my next post, “An Urban River Revival?: A Response Letter to the New York Times”.

Left to my own devices with a completely open prompt, I decided to further investigate the phenomena we had been discussing in class, such as the urban stream syndrome, by looking up recent articles about the health of the James. (my original post: http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/02/01/an-urban-river-revival-a-response-letter-to-the-new-york-times/#comments) The hard-headed science major that I am, I decided to write a response to one article I found about the, “Signs of an Urban River’s Revival in Virginia” by a certain New York Times journalist named Sarah Wheaton. (Now I am not saying all science majors do this, just that I believe my passion for numbers and science played a central role in causing my overreaction to the article). In what I thought to be a brilliant exposé of her article, I began railing against Ms. Wheaton’s evidence of “blue herons, shad, and people along the river” as signs of a revival of the James. I wanted more. I wanted numbers, tables, and graphs demonstrating such a revival, especially after reading another article by a local new station stating that the James had recently been downgraded from a “C+” to a “C” for its overall health. This other article did give me the numbers I so desired, such as the recent reductions in the amount of other wildlife, which I used to argue against Ms. Wheaton’s claims. However, once again TLB set me straight.

On our first trip to the river as a complete class he gave us a walking tour of the falls at Richmond, as well as Brown’s Isle, all the while sharing with us his knowledge of the river. He mentioned that not long ago the river was so polluted that it was not sanitary for people to swim or fish in it, which I must admit was also mentioned in Ms. Wheaton’s article. Then, he gave us specific examples of efforts, such as bayscaping, made by the state and other organizations, to reverse the damage we have caused to the river. Without doubt, progress has been made. Looking back, I do not regret the claims I made about Ms. Wheaton’s lack of scientific evidence and information regarding the recent legislation about the river, but if I could add one more paragraph I would say that her view is not all too unrealistic. In my conclusion I incriminate her for making the general public think that the river is better off than it is, thereby reducing their likelihood of supporting expensive efforts to, for lack of a better word, “revive” the river. However, perhaps there is value in recognizing the progress we have made, as it may enthuse the common citizen about our ability to make a positive difference in the health of our river. Perhaps my plea should not have been for Ms. Wheaton to completely switch to a negative view of the human impact on the river (which I seem to love to have), but rather to one that more adeptly shows both sides. In other words, I would’ve preferred a title more along the lines of, “Signs of an Urban River’s Revival in Virginia, but We’ve Still Got Some Work To Do”. Moving forward I realize I should try to refrain from approaching any given issue with fists raised, but rather with a more open mind. For help with this task I turn to my fellow classmates.

In my search for the way my fellow classmates approach the issue of the human impact on the environment I first came across Hans’ post about his reflection spot along the Westhampton Lake. (http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/01/26/my-reflection-spot/#respond) He mentions that he has somewhat of a history with the trail along the lake as his biology class sophomore year came here to take samples to test the water quality of the lake. However, instead of focusing on the failing health of health of our lake, he notes, “Now the situation got a lot better…the side of the lake no longer has any visible used bottles or trash bags in it anymore and the water seemed a lot less polluted than before…it made my day knowing that people are starting to treat the lake well.” Now, as I have shown, this is hardly the stance I would have taken had I gone on the same walk that Hans had, but frankly I like his better. His ability to recognize the bad, yet also note the good impacts that we have had on our lake show me that it is not too difficult to introduce a little optimism into my own view. All I have to do is so keep my eyes open and think about the past about the progress we’ve made.

Another post that I found particularly inspiring was C.J.’s post about what to make of the Gambles Mill Trail. (http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/01/18/the-gambles-mill-corridor/#comments) What struck me about C.J.’s post was his ability to avoid dwelling on the same litter that I saw, and instead make a vow to do his part to help reverse the damage done. He makes it a goal to,  “…go out with a trash bag and collect the junk I passed on my way out…I hope to make the stream near the well my place to revisit during the spring and, if not, just make it a little cleaner.” And with his first visit to his reflection spot, that is exactly what he did. I remember him coming back to the room (we’re roommates), hands filled with trash, beaming about what he had collected and the treasure he uncovered (namely a cup from freshman orientation 1994). In his reflection post he echoed Han’s sentiment about our ability to reverse the tides saying, “People can have a big impact by trashing the environment, but also by cleaning up the mess others have made.” Once again, I by far prefer this view to my own, and hope to learn from C.J.’s more holistic outlook on the human impact on the environment.

Ok so I know I by now have already surpassed the 1000 word recommended length of this post, but before I wrap things up there are just a couple more inspirational posts by my classmates that I would like to mention. First, in his impression of the GMT, Mike seems to lie on the fence about the human influence on the trail. In his concluding paragraph he asks, “But would we be overstepping our boundaries if we spruce it up a little bit? Build some bridges and new walkways?…Would it be promoting nature? Or perhaps, it would simply be a finely groomed diversion, a golf course of a different color”. (http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/01/18/a-gambles-mill-horror-story/#comments) Here he seems to consider our ability to make the trail a more attractive part of campus, but questions whether that is truly a positive impact on nature. Still, I cannot help but respect his ability to see both sides, and not pigeonhole himself into one close-minded view.

Lastly, I would like to mention one of Carolyn’s posts, also about the GMT. (http://blog.richmond.edu/james/2012/01/18/impressions-and-relfections/#comments) Once again, after making the same walk that I made, she held a completely different view of our influence on the trail. She does note that the work on the trail seemed like a “manipulation of natural resources” which “encroaches on natural space”, yet she also makes the point that “with so many people of all ages learning the value of the beauty of nature especially through increased interest in outdoor activities like biking, running, and rock climbing, I hope that these spaces will begin to be valued anew.” Here I admire her ability to recognize the potential positive implications of our re-shaping of the trail, as I completely agree that public exposure and awareness is a main driving force behind preservation of the natural world.

Finally, I would just like to sum up by apologizing to anyone who has read my previous posts for my close-mindedness, and by making a vow to change. I realize now that humans are not all bad, all the time. Now, when looking at an area for the first time, I will strive to consider both sides of the story. Never will I give up my willingness to condemn our species, as I believe introspection is healthy (as shown by this post), but I will make it a point to open my eyes to those efforts regarding the environment where we have done well. I apologize for such a long post and thank you for bearing with me. I truly feel that this has been a beneficial exercise for me and that I have grown even in just the first month of this course. Hopefully with the help of TLB and my fellow classmates I will continue to grow. I honestly can’t wait to see what happens next!

I can’t recall a time when I was as excited about seeing snow melt as I was this morning. I instantly thought of our last Geography of the James River Watershed lecture and thought about the snowmelt runoff feeding the hydrologic cycle.

The equation we studied that related amount of storage to the difference between precipitation and evapotranspiration and surface runoff leaped to mind, and my inner nerd started to consider how the solid state of snow affects the equation (based on my musings, I’d guess that it would increase the amount of storage, as snow takes longer to return to its liquid and then gaseous state than rain). Yet, like my initial impression of the Gambles Mill Corridor, as I traced the feeble stream of snow melt to the curb along the impermeable road, I was reminded that our modern world is not so easily defined by such equations and my glee turned to reflection.

As I look back on my first post of the semester about my “discovery” of the Gambles Mill Trail, I can distinctly remember how amazing it was to feel like I had found a secret way out of campus through nature, and how humbling it was to see the effect of human influence on the space. Discussing boundaries and water ownership in class made me consider how the University (the Corridor owner) and the golf course (the trail neighbor), reconciled their joint responsibility for maintaining the corridor. As we observed on our second field trip to the Corridor, beyond the golf course’s water pipes which redirect their excess water to the creek underneath the trail, the space is left alone (excluding the minor garden area and seismograph which are maintained for University purposes). Perhaps due to the lack of campus awareness or University funding, the trail has remained untouched for several years, leading to the excessive growth of invasive species such as poison ivy, and the accumulation of dead trees and leaves on the trail floor atop tall, brown grass. Champ Berkley taught our class in a guest lecture that all trails, with his innovative paving, could act as filtering mechanisms for runoff water before it reaches local streams and rivers. Like the work of the “Save the Bay Foundation,” and several other national organizations dedicated to cleaning our watersheds, if awareness is raised on campus and students become passionate about reviving the abandoned Corridor, the actions of Mr. Berkley will be supported not only now but throughout the University’s growth. Despite the Gambles Mill Corridor’s current state, the recent attention given it by campus communities such as Earth Lodge and various Geography classes is a promising indication that it will soon become both a popular way off campus and a model for water filtration.

Just as my perception of the Gambles Mill Corridor changed as I reflected on my impressions, and became educated on its potential, so too did my understanding of Earth Lodge’s community-based learning. When I was waking up and driving to the Farmlett, I felt as if my work for the day would be without purpose, as anyone (or anything) could simply destroy my labor within a few seconds. This outlook, though admittedly dismal, was instilled in me during a similar high school community service project during which a community member questioned why we bothered to work at all. Mike and I were reminded of this outlook when Farmlett employee Matthew told us to organize the windows according to size so that when they were broken, he could easily find a replacement. Though this perspective, if taken to the extreme, can lead to inaction as a commenter added to Mike’s post, it is helpful to keep this in mind so that the service chosen is the both the most beneficial as well as the most practical. As Mike and I continued to work and we saw our 70-odd windows dismantled and categorized within just 3 hours, I was proud that we completed a task that would eventually help others. Though the fruits of our labor were not as immediate as the Earth Lodgers who chose to build or weed, the knowledge that Mike and I saved Matthew a full day’s worth of work and that he would be able to make his greenhouse more efficiently because of us truly resonated with me. Even if I am not able to commit to regularly serving the William Byrd Farm, being able to work and meet people like Matthew inspired me to continue to serve others in the best way I can. Hans expressed a similar admiration in his post saying,

At first I was very confused with his decision, going into farming with a college education. I thought to myself, there is no way I will allow myself to live on a low pay, farming job when I graduate college. Then he explained that he was brought up in a farm and told us his passion for nature. After that I started to admire him, he has the ability to get all the money, political power, or whatever he wants in the world; however he told us that he was not brought up that way, and although some of those are nice to have, only pursuing your passion can truly bring you happiness.

The Earth Lodge service that day not only brought us happiness and brought the surrounding community a small step closer to completing preparations for the planting season, but it also exposed us to remarkable individuals who have chosen to fully incorporate this miraculous work into their lives.

As we encounter daily challenges balancing our human needs and desires with the care and protection of our natural resources, I am reminded of the delicacy with which we must treat the environment and, more importantly, each other. Both the Gambles Mill Corridor and William Byrd Farmlett are spaces in which nature is providing for us, and we must behave in accordance with these blessings. Life is not easily defined by an equation, rules, or boundaries so as stewards of the earth we must learn to respect all people and places with our actions.