I close my eyes and go to my “happy place.” My lungs fill up with air as I inhale and, with my exhale, my eyes open to my alternate reality. I am surrounded by an endless meadow, lush with colors so saturated that the employees of Crayola would scratch their heads trying to name them. Before me stands a claw-foot bathtub reflecting enough sunlight to make it glow and sparkle as if the basin were under a spotlight. A layer of bubbles nearly twelve inches in height conceals the tepid water encompassed by the porcelain tub. I am lured in by the offer of serenity as I slide into the bath, holding my breath in anticipation of the immediate benefit coming my way. Yes, I realize I’ve placed a modern, nothing-to-do-with-nature item in nature, and I have implied that this is my “happy place.”
I often find myself somewhere in between rooting for the natural world and for the technological world. On the one hand, I find myself incredibly annoyed by e-mails and an array of updates from Facebook, Blogger, WIKI, and countless other electronic communication systems, as well as the demand for instantaneous work and response; however, the efficiency gained by technology is almost addicting. Planes, trains, and automobiles, so they say. The idea that I could go anywhere in the entire world if I wanted to is enticing, but the majority of the pull towards travel is the striking beauty in nature across the globe. I find myself identifying with Bill Bryson, who had a love for nature, but Bryson did not have any idea what he was getting into. I have a love for nature as well, but I have never done any serious camping or hiking, so if I were to go out on a trek I would most likely have an experience similar to Bryson’s wake-up call.
The scene Bryson paints with his words as he shops for camping gear made me laugh out loud. Bryson goes to a store his son works at to purchase equipment, he explains:
“…I was under strict instructions of good behavior. Specifically, I was not to say or do anything stupid, try on anything that would require me to expose my stomach, say ‘Are you shitting me?’ when informed of the price of a product…and above all don anything inappropriate, like a woman’s ski hat, in an attempt to amuse.”
I felt that Bryson’s work was so easy to connect to because he was just a regular guy who likes nature, but it makes me feel like I could go out and hike even though I’m as clueless as Bryson was.
On a more sentimental note I was able to connect with Tom Springer. Springer took me back to my childhood as he described his adventure searching for fossils, when nature came alive Springer captured his excitement:
“The alchemy of childhood turned each shell and hunk of porous stone into a rare and wonderful fossil. Suddenly we were more than just nine-year-old suburban kids […] We were boy gods, present at the exhuming of creation. I had never felt such a sense of wild discovery.”
This essay was so easy to relate to in comparison to my own childhood in “suburbia.” Where I grew up, my sister and my friends and I had to create a lot of our own adventures; pretending a tiny bike path off of the main road was the back woods or searching for gold in a patch of dirt by the playground were normal after-school activities for my friends and I. The wonders of nature can be found in places one would never expect, and a small piece of nature with a big imagination can go a long way.
My ideas about nature haven’t gone through an extreme change, but I definitely feel more educated about some issues I probably would not have otherwise stumbled across. When we discussed eating locally in class, knowing that I had been doing a lot of that in my life made me feel happy and appreciate my family’s values. I also really enjoyed learning about urban forestation as it applies to my life, and I have definitely gained some perspective about where I want to live in the future. Overall I appreciated the reminder of my relationship with nature and how it is imperative for me to maintain it and help it grow throughout my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment