Lauren Crocker - Night vision vs. Natural Literarcy

I visited my family's shore house over spring break and decidedly took a night walk along the mile-long lane. The lane is sandy and heavily wooded on either side, so the only light was reflected from the moon; even so it was too dark to make out much. It was during this walk, without shoes, that I decided that i'd be just as well off with my eyes shut than I was with them open... in otherwords, i challenged myself to walk the better part of a mile, relying soley on my alternate senses (It was somewhat of a dumb idea, but if blind people can do it, so can I.). I got several good paces into my mission and realized that the tough grass bewteen the tire lines in the lane would serve as my buffer zone. I figured out which way the breeze was blowing and used that, as well as listening to echoes as a way to tell general direction. At many points i wanted to open my eyes but I decided that if I managed to survive without major injury, I'd have something to be proud of. Long story short, I stepped on way too many sharp things and tripped on countless sticks, but in the end made it to the gate and paved road.
In a way, I connected this experience with nature literacy and liminality because I put myself in a cituation where i was heavily dependent upon what information I could gather from my surroundings. Also, I sripped myself of my strongest sense in order to better connect with the "whole" rather that the "fragments" of what limited night vision and a quicker paced walk allow.

Lauren Crocker - Practice of the Wild

Snyder speaks of the aboriginal Pintubi tribe’s reverence for the wild in his essay, Good, Wild, Sacred, while noting the walking tales shared by an elder, Mr. Tjungurray (82). The stories passed down to younger tribesmen associate place with legend, which aids in tribal reverence for, as well as connection to the land. The stories highlighted sacred locations which were fantastic in shape or feeling; therefore they were anointed as ‘“dreaming spots” for certain totem ancestors’. I became especially interested in Totemism upon reading about the aboriginal means by which ancestors remain connected to the living. The “dreamtime” described by Snyder refers to the animism associated with a location and fluidity of time which allows for connection with a “mythical past”, or in Dögen’s words, “Time/Being” (Snyder, 84-85).
Dreamtime is the curtain call in theater. Everyone is there; dead, alive, future... unity through symbolic presence.
It is interesting to invision time as having no bearing on the subconscious because reflection is the act of revisiting a nonmaterial subject which may have once been experienced. On the same note, i also wander what dreaming is. How is it that we as humans imagine events which have never directly been a part of? Can dreamtime still be considered a connection if we are consciously building a scenario using what we know in order to create?
Another topic which caught my attention in Synders essay was the use of stories to engrain a map in young Pintubi tribesmen. In a way i relate this to my life in that i recall looking out of the car window as a young child on the way to and from my home and making mental notes of the landscape so that i could know the way back. Now, as an adult, and even as a teenager, I am able to fall asleep in the car and wake up knowing exactly where i am by the feeling of the car and the sound of the tires on the road, or the curves and turns. I link this to the idea of indentifying a cosmos, just as Cabeza de Vaca defined his surroundings when captured by the shaman, or Adam when instructed by God to name the creatures of the earth.

Lauren Crocker - Lion's Bridge

It is simple to ask a person to look upon a landscape, yet, to “see” is an entirely different process. The trained eye observes the clandestine qualities of wilderness in ways dissimilar to the common viewer. In this way, I found it difficult to switch of my biological reasoning: numerous concepts and theories which were pumped into my head since seventh-grade life-science. While observing the areas surrounding the Noland Trail and Lion’s Bridge my focus teeter-tottered between seeking minute detail and experiencing the feeling of the place. I caught myself staring intently at bits of bright-colored moss or may apples spiraling up from the ground like unopened umbrellas. Annie Dillard writes in her essay, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, that she “…just can’t see the artificial obvious that those in the know construct” (18). For me it is the same, as well as the opposite. According to Professor Stewart Edward White, the difference is natural and artificial obviousness. I want to see both sides, but the conscious effort limits that ability.
It is difficult to apply what can easily be said about seeing and recognizing the spirituality of a place; even the woods along the Lion’s Bridge voice lessons for those willing to cast aside self-awareness and connect. Artificial obvious and natural obvious can be balanced, so that neither aspect of seeing or experiencing may be leaned upon to heavily. I prefer to be conscious of both the scientific and spiritual aspects of nature in order to get the most from it, yet keep the experiences separate as to prevent a narrowing of subconscious scope.

Lauren Crocker - Practice of the Wild

I found that Good, Wild, Sacred provided a general understanding of human interaction with nature, and how that relationship often decays with modernized human perspective. Nature is Order (93) and therefore nature trains man. It is limited human understanding that pushes us to control “pests” and pull weeds and mow down perfect patchwork fields for planting. The reason for this is that we do not see natural order, merely because it pales in the grand scheme of human control. It is said, “That which appears to be chaotic in nature is only a more complex kind of order” (93). Biological science reveals daily the inner workings of the wild, however, man lacks in application. Nature can best be described as riddled with order and precision, yet the concept of natural order is seldom acknowledged in the casual setting. This requires training, “a training that helps us realize our own true nature and nature” (92). To accept nature for its predisposition is to connect. To connect is to feel understanding and enlightenment, or perhaps, sense a higher power or force. Through this unity stems association with the sacred and understanding of spiritual value, rather than “goodness” alone.
Modern culture often seeks to develop that which is already productive in order to gain control of natural chaos. By understanding how the wild may change us and individuals, we can better use nature. By applying what nature may teach, we can better identify and protect that which is sacred, rather than endanger what is naturally complex for personal gain. Truly comprehending nature is finding the connection between self preservation and that of the wild

Amanda DeSalme, buttercups...

This afternoon on my way to the Ferguson center, I encountered a patch of buttercups. They were all smiling up at me with their shiny yellow petals. There is something simplistic about their lifestyle that lifts my spirits and reminds me not to care/worry too much. They also reminded me of my childhood, when I would run around my yard and pick a handful of buttercups to put in a cup of water on the table of our kitchen. A common theme in my blogs seems to be recalling of childhood memories. Perhaps that is telling us something. The best way to view the world is through a child's eyes. We should view it with wonder and awe, we should marvel at simple beauty. We should appreciate the awesomeness around us. I tend to be extremely optimistic, and so have not written much about the "horrors" of nature. Yes, there are some awful things to witness (or read about) in nature. There is the horror of a tornado or a tsunami or some other awful slap in the face of our civilization. But even this disastrous, destructive force of nature fills me with wonder and a great realization of a higher power. Some unknown omnipotent being has capabilities beyond our intelligence to create and control this world around us. That is some awesome and terrifying power. But back to the buttercups...they were so lovely and happy and they brightened my day, so I felt compelled to write as much. :)

Noland Trail, Noah Ryan

I have recently been trying to change my relationship with the world from an I-It to an I-You. When walking on the Noland Trail, I realized that it is easy to see the human influence on the place, and it is easy, also, to see my own personal impact, small as it may be. What I want to understand is the places influence on me.
The first thing the the place does is fill the senses with itself. Dillard discusses how writing makes one a writer. If one spends time in a place, and fills their sense with the place, the way it sounds and smells and so on, then their mind is in some way formed as something filled with and created by the place.
In relation to something we talked about in class a long time ago, the place also inhabits us. The thoughts it inspires and the feelings we get from it are the place entering us and becoming part of us. One such thought that was inspired by my walk on the Noland Trail was that while humans have had a great deal of influence on the landscape, the most influential beings by far are the trees. They determine the animals and plants that can live in the area, and they inspired our species to make little trails between them. They keep the river from being an eroding influence, and them provide food and shelter to thousands of beings.
I am trying here to leave behind the tradition that would deny the trees any agency in this matter. I have been able to encounter a tree before, but never for more than a second. My self consciousness of my situation and the power of my cultural indoctrination make it very difficult to see a plant as a You. Dillard has some good things to say about losing the ego to be able to interact with the animals she is always interrogating, which makes me think of the change in the I-You relationship that the I will experience. In other words, it seems that to have an I-You relationship with the beings around her, Dillard forgets her I, or maybe changes it into something less self-conscious and limited.

Eric Stoll - The Practice of the Wild #1

Gary Snyder mentions an instance in which the American Indian Movement attempted to block the expansion of mining into lands in the Black Hills that were not only located within U.S. Forest Service land, but were also considered to be sacred by the traditional Lakota inhabitants. This example Snyder uses leads me to ask what I feel is a valid question: what gives a place the distinction of being sacred? Snyder suggests that the Native Americans have sacred lands as a result of their cultural tradition of connecting religion to the landscape. Snyder believes this connection between native religion and the landscape to be “virtually incomprehensible to Euro-Americans.” (Snyder, 87). I disagree with Snyder’s explanation of what constitutes a sacred landscape and furthermore his generally low opinion of the non-native population, which according to his writings, has little ability to develop a spiritual connection with the land. My argument is that the definition of a “sacred landscape” is not solely determined by the religious traditions of the native population, but it is also developed by the personal experiences of the individual. A childhood experience may lead me to consider an ordinary field or patch of woods to have great significance. While my individual experiences may lead me to consider a landscape to be sacred on a personal level, the lack of religious tradition surrounding it may rule it out of such a distinction in Snyder’s opinion. While I may feel Snyder’s concept of a sacred landscape may be too one dimensional for my liking, I certainly will not discredit the Native American’s tradition of connectedness between religion and nature. I do find it unfortunate; however, that a location in which I consider to be sacred due to personal reasons is more likely to be bulldozed and turned into a strip mall, than a Indian burial site is likely to be mined.