WEEK 10

Final Reflection

Part 1: 

"Nature knows no indecencies; man invents them." -- Mark Twain  

(1)
We are the universe. 
We are planet earth, 
We are the United States,
We are Washington, 
We are Seattle. 
We are Ravenna Park.

(2)
We are the human race. 
We are citizens,
We are voters,
We are members,
We are students,
We are enthusiasts. 

(3)
We are freedom. 
We are responsibility,
We are activists, 
We are applied education, 
We are active listeners, 
We are close-lookers. 

We are none of these things.  

(4)
We exist where the warmth of the sun 
kisses the cold, gravel ground. 
Beneath the unsolved puzzle
Of star-shaped pieces. 
A joined army of green,
Protecting our love affair. 

(5)
From the finger-tips of the reaches, 
Our leaders, steadfast and strong.
Running down to the depths of existence,
They hold hands with the earth.
Forever unmoving the guardians wait,
Watchful eyes in a forest, standing tall. 

 We beg to be found. 

(6)
We exist where the silent stream
Falls in love with the stubborn bank. 
As she whittles her beau from the shore,
United, silky brown, ebbs and flows. 
We see them off in joyous praise,
Approving voices in the distance. 

(7)
From the petite, worthy frame,
Neck bent in fruition.
As innocent as crying babe,
As wild as the wind.
Lone soldier of the forest,
A marching band of sounds arise.

We beg to be heard. 

(8)
We exist where fresh morning dew
Clings tightly, a drowning love.
The mistress of the forest,
She fears letting go.
The sun rises,
His arms were made for goodbye.

(9)
From the delicate layers of his existence,
Like an old man in a rocking chair.
He watches with blind eyes,
The hurried lives, short-lived dramas.
Until, he is carried
Away, by the wind. 

We beg to live.  

*Stanzas 4 & 5: Bigleaf Maples, 6 & 7: Song Sparrows, 8 & 9: Beard Lichen* 



Part 2: 

1. Throughout the course of this Spring quarter, my perception of the environment has changed entirely. Like any normal kid, I loved playing outside when I was younger. I was a girl scout from ages 7-14, and have often gone camping and hiking with friends and relatives. However, it was not until I signed up for ENVIR 280: A Natural History of the Puget Sound Region: Knowing our non-human neighbors, that I found a true appreciation for the world around me. Normally guarded by the carefully built shell that protects me from the outside world, equipped with Nikes, and a Helly Hansen jacket, I slowly began to let myself become enveloped by the natural world. Leaving behind the stresses-of-tomorrow, each week I ventured to a *not-so-secret* location, on the creek, at Ravenna Park. It was here that I began to identify myself as a stereotypical 'nature-lover', looking closely at the wrinkles in a leaf, the way the green skin covers the vein on the back of a dull Oregon grape. While joggers and dog-walkers and students walking home hurried passed me, I would watch them with empathy and sadness, that they did not take the time to, literally, wake up and smell the roses.
   
   
2. My new sense of the Puget Sound Region, my 'hometown', makes me question the thought that I have ever known a bird. How lucky we are, to live in a region that is in such close proximity to some of the most diverse wonders of the world. In the Olympics to the West, the old-growth forest hosts four out of the five tallest trees in the world. Along the Cascades to the East, a line of volcanoes speckle the path between temperate and desert climates. Washington is a land of myths. Never again will I be able to listen in ignorant bliss to the sweet song of the morning birds outside my window without identifying their call; a Song Sparrow, a House Finch, a Black-capped Chickadee. I will never forget the day I realized that the trees that line 17th St. in the University District, the trees that guide my daily walk home, are Horse Chestnut Trees, the biggest ones I have ever seen. Or, when Cindy Luskus pointed out the small red hats that grow on the lichens of a Grand Fir, called the British Soldier Lichen. I feel like it is a crime that I have lived my entire 20-years of life in this region and am only now being educated. Natural history should be a requirement for all grade levels, just like the history of our politics and wars. 
   
   
3. To intimately know a natural place is much different from knowing your backyard. Most of us only ever reach a point of familiarity. I am familiar with the grass, the way the trees look when they block the sun, how long it takes to run from fence to fence in a game of capture the flag. My backyard, however, is a man-made stage set, a facade of the natural world. To truly know a place is to find one that is untouched by the hands of men and learn it. At my observation site this quarter, I made friends with the trees, with their trunks and their leaves. When you visit a site every week, you begin to notice the little changes, the "hair-cuts" and the important parts of someone's life, that only a close friend would notice. On our field trips, we got the chances to meet places that were entirely new. I was mind blown by the stoic, soaring treetops in the Olympic National Forest, and even more astounded by all of the happenings on the forest floor, whether it be the facilitation or predation of species. I have come to find that the most frustrating and most exhilarating aspect of natural history is one in the same, that the job is never finished; that, like people, there are always more fish in the sea. Except, unlike humans, fish aren't documenting their every move and they need people like us to do it for them; to write them down, to love them, to save them. 

~ Thank you for reading! ~