Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Urban Nature v. The Wild

So 'the Christmas gift of the year' for me was my new kindle given to me by the owner of 'the dog of the year', and in so doing may have locked in 'father-in-law of the year'...but the jury's still out.  Regardless, I've decided that we as a community need more of such distinctions.  A little recognition brings people together, gives us something to talk about, makes us smile (or gives us something to jealous over). 

For example, if you live in Seattle, I encourage you to send me in your nomination for 'street tree of the month'.  Simply take a picture, send it my way, and my panel of judges (yet to be determined) will decide who wins.  The winner gets all the fame the www. has to offer a tree, and the owner gets to say, "my tree won 'street tree of the month' in January 2010". 

But back to the 'gift of the year', the kindle...I love it because it makes me read more.  And while that means I write less, I don't feel guilty about it because reading is good for the brain and good for the soul.  Maybe one day I'll even start reading on a treadmill or something and it'll be good for my body too. 

So what have I been reading lately...coincidentally, a book about urban nature, and some essays written by my '2010 hero of the year', John Muir, which are always set in the wildest places that nature has to offer...because that's how John Muir, a rugged Scotsman if there ever was one, rolled.  The book about urban nature is called Crow Planet by a Seattle native who got fascinated with crows (as many of us are) and who beautifully makes the case for valuing what little nature does exist between the cracks of our concrete jungles.

On the one hand, I find myself drawn to this notion of making the most of what we have at our fingertips and learning to appreciate fully the places, faces and things we come in daily contact with.  It reminds me of something E.O. Wilson said about the virtues of being a microbiologist vs. a macrobiologist.  When out in the field doing research, Wilson had only to walk 5 feet before becoming completely enthralled in the underside of a log, whereas his macrobiologist counterparts would have to walk miles and miles before finding something of interest.

And from that perspective, I totally see value in 'urban nature'.  It's why I think it's a good idea for EE programs to focus their teaching on common, everyday features of our lives.  In the PacNW, that's spiders, crows, mushrooms, dandy-lions, cedars, rain, etc.  Especially in the fieldtrip frame work, we should aim to show kids how/what to look for so that they can continue to 'research' these things on their own and teach others when the opportunity arises.  And if the lesson revolves around ubiquitous characters such as crows, opportunities will always arise.

And then there's the other side of me that lives vicariously through John Muir's adventures in the wild. One of the last things I read of his was titled 'Stickeen' and told the story of one particular hike over Alaskan glaciers with this dog named Stickeen.  I was riveted to every word and at one point found myself crying on a bus-ride home (part of my effort to shrink that old carbon footprint).  And it wasn't even sad!  It was just intense, and at that moment I realized... I need to get out more.  If reading about the ferocity of nature will bring me to tears, what will experiencing it do?

So as I settle into teaching EE in my new outdoor classroom at the Arboretum, I do so with a mixture of eagerness, responsibility and renewed curiosity to see what I can find and how I can share it.  At the same time I know that if I don't get out for regular doses of wilderness and adventure I will grow stale and soft and either sell out or burn out before I have the chance to make the impact I want to make on this world.  And so even on this Tuesday evening, I look forward to Saturday and a rendezvous with some snowshoes and a mountain. 

Until then, I return to my crows and my kindle and the continued signs of spring peeking around the corner. 

Monday, January 4, 2010

Resolution: twentyten

It's been too long blogosphere, and there is so much I need to share...

First and foremost, however, a recent visit to the California Academy of Sciences in SF has inspired a new years resolution that's worth repeating, "in 2010, I will reduce my carbon footprint". 

It's such a simple statement to make, and so easy to actually do that I fear for its staying power in the American psyche - so crowded with ticker-tape news reels, holiday bombardment and the steady din of progress.  I fear this statement, "I will reduce my carbon footprint" will become trite and politicized before it has a chance to sink in.  This would be unfortunate, because if it doesn't sink in, and if we don't start acting en masse, life as we know it will become life as we knew it. 

What struck me about this exhibit was its delivery.  As a firm believer in 'learning by doing' and a connoisseur of interactive museum installations, the designers/educators nailed this display.  If you have the time/interest, you can check it out here, but the basic concept is a giant scale (I think we called them "triple beam balances" in science class).  On one side of the scale are several "beams" each of which represents a different part of our life where we use carbon (i.e. transportation).  Visitors are asked to slide weights to approximately where on the beam their daily life puts them, come up with a total amount of carbon used/yr, and then balance that number out on the other side.  In this case, this sliding scale on the other side was equated to a $ figure.  The message was, "if you use X amount of carbon per year, you need to pay $X to off-set that number and sleep better at night knowing you haven't contributed to Earth becoming the next Mars."  An environmental tithe if you will.

So what if you can't afford rent much less pay for your yearly carbon output?  Or what if you're a skeptic about everything and everyone, especially when it comes to giving your money to some sketchy business in Timbuktu that promises to plant trees for you in the desert?  Fortunately for those of us in these categories, we can simply alter our daily routines just a smidgen to make that statement a true one, "in 2010, I will reduce my carbon footprint".

For a full list of some ways to get started check out this link

The ones that surprised/stood out for me:

+ don't use the dryer (obviously a summer time thing in Seattle)
+ use the microwave over the oven (so counter to my fear/distrust of microwaves)
+ stick a full 1 liter bottle in your toilet tank (using less water uses less carbon, double bonus)
+ buy used furniture (I can put you in touch with a great antique dealer...Hi Mom!)
+ don't idle to warm your car up, or ever for that matter if > 6secs (modern cars have very efficient fuel injectors, not the smog belching carburetors of old)
+ unplug stuff when not using
+ eat with your hands!

and in keeping with the spirit of the Soggy Gardener, some ideas for the garden:

+ plant edibles wherever possible (from ground covers to climbers to trees)
+ plant marigolds to ward of pests in your veggie garden
+ leave your grass clippings on the lawn
+ catch/use your rainwater
+ become friends with your neighbors (especially ones that you can borrow occasionally needed stuff from...it's not mooching if you share your stuff too). 

{My apologies for the poor quality of the video...I just checked it out for the first time.  I got a new toy for xmas and am still figuring it out.  Look for more "on location" video blogs to come}

Happy gardening and good luck twentyten the year of the (carbon neutral) Dragon. 

ps.  While I was sad to report that my teaching gig at Karkeek park came to a close, I'm happy to report that I got a new full-time gig at UWBG where I'm now the Education Supervisor.  I'm stoked for this new opportunity not only b/c its a dream job for me, but it will also provide plenty of fodder for future posts, so stay tuned!