Journal 6

Joe Hartshorn

Dr. Dan Williams

24 October 2017

Nature Journal 6

            For this class period we ventured back out to the nature center, but this time our group went to work with another group on shoveling dirt to fix eroded areas on various trails. While some other groups have been working on filling in holes in the trails with dirt previously, we had yet to do so. We received shovels and other materials to move the dirt and smooth out the trail, and went on our way. The Nature Center is where I have spent the most time this semester contemplating occurrences within nature and humanity’s ever-evolving relationship with nature. This is mostly due to the busyness of life and senior year especially, so having the opportunity to drive out to the nature center and spend two hours not thinking about anything else other than our trails has been the most insightful experience for me.

            We spent the entirety of class moving dirt that the nature center employees brought out onto the trail and then smoothing it out where we saw fit, so my mind was mainly stuck pondering the idea of erosion. The fact that these trails erode due to weather such as rain and wind is interesting in itself. The natural world is constantly moving and reshaping itself into new forms into whatever form is the most viable at the time. However the natural world doesn’t really have a choice to do so. The adage survival of the fittest applies to nature seamlessly, as nature either adapts and survives or perishes. This can be applied to a wild animal or even a dirt trail in the Fort Worth nature center. Weather and erosion slowly broke down areas of the trail we were working on due to the trails obvious inability to protect itself. While this is a small example and could even seem like a stretch, this is where my mind wandered to.

So much of the natural world or “wild” doesn’t have the ability to protect itself from the potential harm that other aspects of the natural world can bring. If God provided humanity the earth to survive, do we have an obligation to protect the natural world from itself? This might be one of the biggest questions for humanity to answer. Our trail was eroded away by the elements, which is essentially the dirt and rock that existed to form the trail. If we didn’t deem that trail valuable and worth protecting/fixing, the trail would slowly disappear if not used. The dirt and rocks would travel to other spots to settle in a new home. Is that what God intended, or did He intend for us to make decisions for nature as to how nature should exist? Humanity has taken on the role of the nature curator. We have taken it upon ourselves to determine what is best for the natural world and how it is supposed to co-exist with us. Rather than let nature be and allow nature to shape itself, we more and more continue to tell nature what state it is going to exist in based on what we believe is the most advantageous to us. I’m not sure that is what God intended when he provided us the earth. Perhaps our relationship with the natural world has become too one-sided. 

Journal 5

Joe Hartshorn

Dr. Dan Williams

8 October 2017

Nature Journal 5

            This is my first journal where I have decided to write about my accounts of an experience within nature that wasn’t specifically during our class time on Tuesdays. This experience actually wasn’t even intended to be one of my journals initially, however my experience was interesting enough to document here. On October 8^th three of my friends and I decided to spontaneously drive to Austin in the morning to attend the last day of the Austin City Limits (ACL) Music Festival. The tickets weren’t too expensive and a few bands that we really wanted to see perform were there. Katie Myers from our class was actually one of my friends that came with. We drove up early to get to Austin by noon, and spent the entire day within the confines of the festival. The festival takes place every year in Zilker Park, a wide-open park in the middle of Austin. The park has many trees throughout, and under one of these trees is where my inspiration from this journal takes place.

            At about 2:00 PM, Zach and I split up between Katie and Kaity due to us wanting to see a different performer than them at that time. We left the performer we went to early, and had about an hour to kill until we planned to meet up with them again. The temperature was still in the high 80s, so we were sweating most of the day. We knew we had to last until midnight when the festival ended, so we decided to rest under a nearby tree to get some shade and get off of our feet. We found a grove of trees with various people laying down and chatting underneath them, so we followed suit and perched underneath one where nobody else was. The combination of laying down and being in the shade was marvelous. While Zach fell asleep for a bit, I stayed awake, almost in a sort of trance underneath this specific tree. I made the conscious decision to pretend that I was the only one there underneath this tree. I’m not sure what sort of tree it was, but its leaves were still a lush green and small leaves that would fall down to the earth every now and then. The sun was high in the air still, as if it was at the highest point in the sky. Sunrays glimmered down through the trees leaves, creating a sort of pattern that consisted of the sunrays and leaves flowing together, as the rays filled in any gaps between the leaves as I peered upwards. This is one of the first moments since this class began that I noticed myself subconsciously examining an occurrence in nature with this detail. The music playing from the stage nearest to us was soft and calming, and as I fell more into a daze between consciousness and sleep, it felt as though the music and leaves were in sync with one another. The leaves appeared to almost be dancing to the music as the leaves slowly swayed back and forth in the wind. I then started to evaluate how this music might be influencing my perception of the leaves and sunrays I was observing. The music definitely altered my perception of the experience, as I felt as though the music was a soundtrack to my life at that moment because it fit so perfectly with the behavior of the leaves in the wind.

However, I found myself wishing it was silent so that I could hear the wind glide through the leaves. At Overton Park I greatly appreciated the faint bristling sounds I would hear as we discussed our readings. As cliché as it sounds, perhaps nature does have its own soundtrack and produces its own sort of music. People listen to white noise sounds from nature when they go to sleep for a reason, yet everywhere we go the soundtrack of nature is drowned out by the busyness of life. Anyways, I find it so interesting that I was at a music festival in a different city but found myself wishing it was silent for a moment so I could listen to the natural sounds happening around me.

Journal 4

Joe Hartshorn

Dr. Dan Williams

19 September 2017

Nature Journal 4

            This week we ventured over to Overton Park for our class discussion of the readings for this week. I had no clue that Overton Park was but ten minutes from campus, and was surprised to find that such a park had been right next to me for the past three years. We met in the parking lot and ventured along the trail into the depths of the park. We quickly became engulfed in many different species of trees, and I soon felt as though we weren’t in Fort Worth at all. We sat in a grassy in the shade under a grove of trees for our discussion. The shade from the trees above was a wonderful break from the Texas heat. As we began reviewing the readings, the aspect of our shaded patch of grass in Overton Park that caught my attention was leaves falling from the surrounding trees.

            While leaves were not falling in bunches from the trees, it seemed that there was a steady pattern of leaves falling to the ground every now and then. There was a slight breeze whistling through Overton Park that appeared to contribute to the falling of these leaves. The leaves weren’t large by any measure, but the ones that I was watching were a dark tint of green. The leaves were oval shaped and looked similar to the stereotypical picture of a leaf that children might draw in elementary school. However what caught my attention the most was the fact that these leaves fell so gracefully. It appeared as if the leaves were floating down to the surface of the earth willingly, and doing so in a purposefully elegant manner. When I think of the concept of falling from a considerable height, falling comes to the mind with such a negative connotation attached to it. Falling isn’t naturally regarded as an act that is desired. In our daily lives, falling in any capacity carries a negative meaning with it, both physically and metaphorically. Both a fall down a flight of stairs and a fall from the grace with a group of friends are considered undesirable “falls”. However in this instance, the leaves falling felt right. The leaves fell to the earth as if they had a parachute attached to them, floating with bliss similar to the feelings sky diving advocates receive from the activity.

            While I pondered the act of the leaves falling steadily to the ground, I was also listening to one of the groups discuss the readings for the week. Of all the readings for this week, one line from chapter four of Wilderness and the American Mind stayed with me for some time. On page 79, Nash discusses one of Cole’s poems that essentially states that “Wilderness alone could not cheer and revive; love and friendship were necessary too.” This line struck a chord in me, as I have spent this semester evaluating what I believe wilderness’ role is in humanity’s experience on earth and in my own life. Many of the readings thus far have been somewhat charged with feelings of disdain for the relationship humanity has developed with nature, as many nature writers believe that humanity has taken advantage of the wilderness and not engaged in a mutually beneficial relationship with the wild. However Cole’s poem alluding to the idea that friendship and love must be a part of the equation for humanity to find vitality brings in an idea that hasn’t been discussed thoroughly with previous readings. While wilderness must be protected, preserved, and appreciated, how do humanity’s inter-personal relationships come into play? Are friendship and love able to coexist with a world that values wilderness highly enough to seek individual revival from experiences with nature? How do the two balance? My initial thought is that our relationships with other humans are our primary and instinctual source of revival, so I would agree with Cole that our inter-personal relationships must be an aspect of our own relationship with nature if we are seeking contentment from the wilderness.

Journal 3

Joe Hartshorn

Dr. Dan Williams

12 September 2017

Nature Journal 3

            This week rather than meeting in an outdoor setting to discuss readings from the text, we went out to the Fort Worth Nature Center for the second time. At this point we have already been assigned trails to work with, so our group all went to the “Plum” trail again. We now have a decent idea of what our trail looks like holistically and can start cleaning the trail up much more than our previous trip. The weather still felt like it was summer outside, so I began sweating pretty early on into the class period. We spent the majority of our time clearing our trail’s path of any privet that had overgrown onto the path, as well as removing any privet that caused the bench areas to appear unsightly or unappealing to rest at. It felt almost ironic to be clearing away nature in order to provide anyone who uses the trail a better experience in nature, but I suppose that’s what humanity has been doing forever isn’t it? Our trail had already seemed to be fairly well kept up, so there wasn’t a ton of difficult privet to clear away. There were a lot of random fallen branches on the sides of our trail’s path, so we spent some time bundling these together for the nature center employee’s to haul away at a later time. The last time I had done any sort of trail walking was this past June with my family in Red River, New Mexico, so having the opportunity to work with this trail was calming and a breath of fresh air. Our trail for the most part was engulfed by trees on all sides, with many trees hanging overhead covering the trail. These trees were what I spent most of my time observing and contemplating while we worked on our trail.

I started to compare these trees that felt “wild” to me to the “tame” trees I’m surrounded by every day on campus and around the city. Much like how we compare caged animals that live in zoos to wild animals that can roam free, I had a similar dialogue with myself regarding trees. Why do we choose to perfectly manicure the trees that exist throughout our cities and even in the yards of our own homes? It feels as though we’re almost caging these trees for our own viewing pleasure similar to how society creates zoos. We don’t allow trees to grow in the ways and directions that they would naturally grow otherwise, rather we trim branches and cut limbs completely off to tailor a tree’s growth pattern to our liking. The trees we raise in our urban areas don’t appear even close to how they might appear in their natural state. Can you even consider these manicured trees to be “natural” or “wild” then? When I analyzed the trees that existed around our trail, they felt natural. Their limbs shot in all different directions. They grew in the directions that they could due to their natural surroundings. Some trees grew tall among the rest, while others seemed to have grown sideways for reasons unknown to me. Some trees had limbs broken off due to natural causes such as weather. Every tree looked different from one another, all with different features based on their surroundings and how each tree grew as a result of its surroundings. However in society, in any given landscaping design for a building, home, etc., every tree looks practically identical. On TCU’s campus you see rows of the same tree, all spaced from one another exactly the same distance, all the same species, and all the same height and width. How is this concept natural at all? Do we even consider it natural beauty, or was the concept of manicuring and placing trees in our urban areas simply for visual appeal purposes? What was more interesting to me is that when I examined the trees on our trail, my mind instantly seemed to prefer the aesthetic of the tailored trees on campus and in my backyard. It sort of feels like society chose to supplement our urban desires with trees and plants that are tailored to appear perfect as an attempt to allow the natural world a spot in our societal advances, yet I’m not sure that’s what ended up happening.

Journal 2

Joe Hartshorn

Dr. Dan Williams

5 September 2017

            This journal recounts our class’ second adventure beyond the walls of a classroom, as we met at the Fort Worth Botanic Garden and held our discussions in the grass in the middle of the garden. While this is my fourth and final year at TCU, I have never actually wandered to the Botanic Gardens myself, so I was interested to see what this experience would entail. My group of myself, Ben, Julia, Katie, and Nicole were presenting over the readings for this week, so we had a presentation prepared and led class discussion in the grass. We discussed the introduction and chapters one and two of Wilderness and the American Mind, as well as Meriwether Lewis’ journals from his famous exploration of America. While the first couple chapters of Wilderness and the American Mind set the stage for many of the thoughts and discussions we would have this semester, ranging from conservationist ideals to America’s consumption culture, the reading that struck me the most was Lewis’ accounts of exploring America.

            Lewis’ accounts were intensely descriptive. These journals of his were much more tailored towards relaying information about the landscape, nature, and wildlife surrounding him during his journey rather than his raw emotion towards what he was experiencing. While this heavily descriptive tone wasn’t the most exciting material to read, it did leave me pondering why no one really writes, or better yet thinks, in such descriptive and detailed tones. Prior to taking this class, I can’t remember the last time I was idle with a focused mind intent on examining every detail of something I encountered in my life, both in the material world and in my experiences in nature. Rather, it seems that for the most part that my generation lacks both the desire and more so the ability to gather such intense detail from our daily experiences. Everything I typically do these days is in a fast paced manner, attempting to gather as much information as possible about the area around me in as little time required. The first thought is that the advancements in technology in recent years could be a major reason for this, as millennial attention spans have been zapped by scrolling through social media, using Google to gather information quickly rather than doing detailed research in texts, and multimedia making information easier to relay. After reading Lewis’ accounts and coming to this realization, I spent some of our time in the Botanic Gardens attempting to focus on the environment around me in a similarly detailed manner.

            Throughout our discussions, I chose to spend some time examining the grass that we were all sitting on, as the grass was easiest to examine closely from where we were sitting and the fact that I am always walking through grass yet have never really examined the plant. The more time I spent contemplating the grass the more interested I seemed to become. It’s fascinating that what we refer to as “grass” all the time consists of literally individual blades. Every single blade makes up what we refer to as “grass”, yet we consider all of the blades as a group to be what we call the “grass”, if that makes sense. I kept getting hung up on that idea. Why are we generalizing all of these individual blades of grass and grouping them into one? Is that even considered a generalization? Are we undermining the beauty of grass in that this infinite number of blades flows together to create one of our most utilized surfaces for standing upon? I started to begin to feel like grass itself is one of the most ‘taken for granted’ aspects of the natural world we exist in. We continue to advance industrially and urbanize our world, yet grass remains essential and valued by all. Everyone desires to have beautiful, green grass surrounding their homes. Why is that? If we strive to continue to advance industrially, why are we keeping grass around?