What Little We Can

Apparently, the human physiology is the best adapted of all animals for long distance movement. Running, walking, etc. The s-shaped bend in our spines distributes the pressure of holding up our bodies...or something along those lines. I am not an anatomy student, so take that factoid with a grain of salt. Why I find this worth mentioning is because the juxtaposition of our supposed evolutionary advantage (as far as physicality goes, lets not get into thumbs or all the things that are awesome about our brains that I am certainly not well educated enough to explain) and what most of us actually do with our time (sitting/laying, mostly) is comical. When once our species was not yet evolved enough to be able to order groceries delivered to our houses, all without leaving the comfort of our pajamas, going for a walk may never have been considered a leisurely activity. As we have grown more advanced, so too have we grown away from nature. We spend less time outdoors, and when we do go out in to the wild, it's usually with as many conveniences as we can pack along (mobile hotspots, handheld games, whatever the latest e-reader is, etc.). So even an afternoon stroll through the woods has come to be somewhat of an event for the average American.

That all being said, I recently took one such walk.

For the past few courses before we left to go to the Blandford Nature Center, our class had been discussing tree-bathing, and how studies are coming out showing that being in the presence of the forest can actually reduce stress levels and be a healthy thing to to with some regularity. While I have always believed that forests have something of a calming effect, I wasn't (and honestly still am not) sure of their ability to help soften the symptoms of stress and anxiety. I was (and still am) however, charmed with BNC as a whole, and deeply appreciative of the work that it does in the name of education and preservation in the Grand Rapids area. Not only do they maintain a (mostly) natural space, but they also help animals that would otherwise die in the wild.


Both the bobcat and the red tailed hawk in the pictures above are being raised in captivity at BNC for their own safety. Not only does this ensure that these animals can live out their life, but it also helps visitors to learn about their species.

Though I got to walk for only an hour or so, it was a pleasure to do so at BNC. Constantly people are looking for ways to protect the environment,or educate the people about conservation. While there is no one overarching program that I think can work to save the world, it's little places like the BNC doing little things that can help the most.

A Contradiction

I enjoy driving. Whether it’s a multi state trek or just a 15 minute cruise, I have always been excited to be behind the wheel of a car. As taxing as it can be (especially in the winter months), there is something to be said for the feeling of being in control of a pile of chrome, steel, and electronics as it flies across the countryside, or through small suburban neighborhoods. 
Although the feeling of control over my finely crafted, gently used chariot can be sublime, the real treat is the scenery. The plains and forests that blur into a wall of color and space are backdrops to the general idea of exploring. It even harkens to the early scenes of Tolkien’s famous Fellowship of The Ring, with fresh faced adventurers plodding off through woodland and farmland alike.
Living in Allendale, there is an ever present miasma of manure, especially in the warming months of summer and spring. The smell itself is almost enough of a deterrent to wandering too far off the path between my front door and my car. Pair that with the apparent emptiness of the land, as saturated as it is with farmland and apartment complexes, and the motivation to wander disappears entirely to me. Such criticism can be made of many communities across Michigan, with proper substitutions for the local obstacles to outdoor inquiry.
Whenever I pull up to my apartment, one of the last thoughts that cross my mind before I leave my car is how nice it is to live in a heavily wooded area (my apartments are surrounded by forest). I'll even fantasize about sneaking off into the woods and starting a secret garden, or finding a nook in a tree to disappear to and read whenever I'm stressed. But as I open my door and actually achieve my minimal interaction with nature for the day, the desire fades. 
That this behavior is a pattern in me is frustrating. I once did thoroughly enjoy short nature hikes, exploring backyards and the woods. When did that part of me die? Perhaps the better question is whether or not it died at all. Perhaps it waits for me in the forest, hoping I will come to find it soon.

Woher?

I'll save you the trouble of switching tabs and going to Google translate (if you were going to do that anyway, maybe you know German, maybe you don't care). "Woher?" means "from where?". I was born in Germany, though on an American military base thus rendering me an American citizen. This begins to explain not only my decision to study the language, but also the urge I felt to lead with this factoid about myself and to tell an obnoxious amount of stories that all begin with "while I was in Germany...".

That all being said and as much as I love saying it, I only spent the first nine months of my life in Germany. Shortly thereafter my family moved back to the states, eventually settling down in southeast Michigan when I was about 5. While it is interesting and exciting to say that I hail from somewhere so unfamiliar to many, the more honest answer is one that my readers are likely far more familiar with. I am from the suburbs. I am from a family that inhabits the ever diminishing zone we collectively refer to as the middle class. I am from a good childhood and a good public school. I am from privilege, though not from excess. It is only due to this origin of plenty, with occasional glimpses into the lives of those on either side of the social strata of me that I was able to decide where my heart lies with comparative ease. Where my heart lies is back in the Bavarian City of Würzburg in the shadow of the Marienburg fortress, and in the Hamburg Christmas markets with it's myriad of snow covered stalls. As my heart rests there, so too do these places compel me to return. Such compulsion drives me through all that I do. Where my work comes from and therefore where I come from is the desire to return. Return not only to familiar places but also to a familiar feeling, a feeling of home and of wonder. 

Woher kommt ihr?

Looking in A Different Direction

Welcome! There is a good deal of apprehension around starting this blog and indeed to posting this introductory spiel, however brief that it may be. Most of this apprehension comes from a single source which mutates, deforms, and reforms into various other worries. I've run other blogs before, though what separates  this from my past experiences is this: I know people will read this blog.

I'm starting this blog as a semester long project for my ENG 382 class. The class will focus on nature in literature, and while I'm not sure anyone has read work I've done on other blogs, I know that there will be other people who will read this. Included in those people is someone who is paid to read this, critique my work, and assign me a number which corresponds to a letter that corresponds back to a number that affects my future.This is maybe the first time that writing in a blog environment will have such an impact (as minimal as it may be in comparison to other courses) on my future. No longer do I need only to worry about whether or not my writing is good enough for me, I need now also fret that my writing is good enough for someone else. 

Hopefully, the vast majority of those who come here to read will be able to recognize the fear inherent to such a statement. Hopefully they can identify with me. Ideally, all the extra eyes on our collective work will help us grow as writers in general. We will hack away the extraneous or grow the superfluous into something splendid as each case requires. Hopefully we will all be able to walk away from this not only having achieved the goals that our teachers and the curriculum has set for us, but also being able to examine ourselves and our work in a different light.