Nature-is it too dangerous?

Today in class we discussed advertisements utilizing landscape.  At one point in the conversation, someone talked about how many outdoor recreation companies are selling products that makes going out into nature safer and easier for humans, like tents that pop up out of the back of cars, or clothes that keep us warm in -30 degree temperatures.  Nature isn't always a safe place for humans.  We know that, and that's why we create products like the clothes that withstand -30 degree temperatures. The romantic landscape painters that we've studied in class see nature as amazing, and they highlight only the romantic aspects of it.  However, nature isn't always glamorous,  People can get hurt out there; maybe this has something to do with the need to tame nature?  Anyways, around campus I've noticed many things that make our nature a little less wild. 

First: the paths in the natural lands.  They are groomed, quite well, and are wide enough to let a large car drive with ease through the lands.  While they are covered with grass, this large width takes away from that community with nature that I personally seek.  The longest single path is less than a mile long, and as I saw last week, even the paths are groomed to get rid of the dangerous ice.  Sure, the natural lands are there, but they're not so natural.  They're tame, and kept that way by us. 

Second: the rotating gardens on campus.  I love having plants around, and would much rather have these gardens than lawn, but often times the flowers are ripped out of the ground after they've been there for a month.  A month!  That's quite unnatural.  For me, the joy of having a garden around is in the upkeep, in keeping plants ALIVE.  Here, they are taken from the ground before they even begin to die.

Third: the quad.  Don't get me wrong, I love that we have the open space to play in.  However, as we've discussed in class, it really isn't natural.  It's resod every year because the grass doesn't grow well in this climate.  We chop down trees when they are in the way of a path. 

In some ways, our campus tries to be environmentally friendly, but it doesn't seem to go all the way.  We're kept safe from nature, perpetuating the idea that nature is great, but only when it doesn't harm us. 

Wind and Memory

Memorial Chimes with Boe Chapel in the background

I stayed on campus over break and, to be completely honest, stayed almost completely on the Mohn side of campus, going out twice for a run, a couple times to Thorsen to use their far superior kitchen, and once into town for Thanksgiving dinner with some family friends.  My landscape this last week was rather limited, but that gave me a bit of time to think about the parts of campus I don't usually walk by, including the memorial chime tower.

The memorial chime tower is beautiful in many ways.  It was built in 2003 to commemorate the lives of St. Olaf students who died while attending the school.  The tower was modeled after a Scandinavian church, I believe, and many of the faculty and staff came together that year to help design and build it.  As a memorial, it is fitting that the goal of the structure is to honor the lives of students lost while attending St. Olaf, and, as I found in one article on the St. Olaf website, "serve as a quiet, sacred place of personal reflection and thought."

Looking up at the chimes

What interests me the most is the interplay between the chimes and the wind.  Each chime is engraved with the name of a student and as a group, the chimes a tuned to the key of D, the key of Beautiful Savior.  When the wind blows, the chimes sound beautiful.  This memorial demonstrates, I think unintentionally as none of the articles on the school website mention this, that the school does have a view of nature that is Nature.  These chimes work with the wind, not against it, and not attempting to just use it, but with it to create a beautiful place of thought and reflection.  The memorial's nearness to the chapel is also important.  Here, the interplay between wind and memory brings in another character: spirit.  The wind, playing in the chimes, represent the spirits of those we remember.  They are here, with us, in the wind.  We as humans are a part of the earth.  That's pretty cool.

Snowplows and Deer

I went on a run out in the natural lands today for the first time since the snow fell.  It's been hovering around freezing for the last week, but definitely gets warm enough to melt during the day and cold enough to refreeze during the night.  This makes for treacherous, though entertaining, running.  I got to the end of a mile long loop that connects to the loop around Skoglund pond and realized that the Skoglund pond loop... had no snow on it!  Someone had come by with a snowplow or something and moved all of the snow out of the way!  I almost laughed out loud.  It seemed so out of place in this snow covered landscape for someone to come and clear the snow away on a path in the natural lands.  While it was safer, it sure wasn't natural.

A little later in the run I was fighting my way through the ice-snow on the loop below Ytterboe that goes right by the wind-turbine clearing when I saw a deer!  She stood and watched to see if I'd go the other direction, and when I came running towards her, she ran off the train, jumping high in the air as she went.  It's not often I see animals besides squirrels on campus, and this redeemed my snowplow experience 100%.  Overall, a good day in the natural lands.

The Natural Lands

Here at St. Olaf we have a large expanse of natural lands adjacent to the school, about 700 acres.  According to the St. Olaf website, most of this land is leased to area farmers.  However, not all of it is.  For me, the remaining 40 or so acres out behind Mohn and the north side of campus, spreading to the west is where I spend a large part of my "landscape" time.  Whenever I can, I run out there.  During the fall, I appreciate the subtle yet many color changes of the tall grasses.  I rarely make it out during the winter, but if it's not too cold I love running at about 4pm, watching the shadows in the snow and the wonderful colors that the setting sun causes.  The spring is one of my favorite times to be out there, watching everything come back to life.  I can hear the frogs singing, see the red-winged blackbirds a'flying, and the ducks with their ducklings swimming away. 

That the campus has and keeps the natural lands is very important to me.  The school could very easily use this land for something else, yet it is kept in a natural state.  Sure, that state is maintained through prarie burns and the like, but the intention is there.  It's a place where the human touch is removed, and the fact that the school even has an area like this says alot about its view of the environment.  There are a few paths wandering about the area, showing that the school encourages walks or runs out there.  It is there to be experienced, not cut off from the community.  During the winter, cross-country ski tracks are maintained, following the same routes as the paths, showing that even during these harsh months, we can still get out there.  Overall, it seems like the college wants us to be in touch with nature, not removed from it.

A Great Place to Study

I don't spend much time studying outside of my room, but when I do I head to the 4th floor of the Atrium in Regents Hall for Natural and Mathematical Sciences.  This is the newest open building on campus and contains many environmentally friendly features such as a pipe system that collects rain and snow runoff to use in the green houses.  It is certified LEED platinum, and, as a Biology and Environmental Studies student, I spend most of my life here.  Over the past year and a half that is my time at St. Olaf, I've explored various homework nooks and found that I like the Atrium the best.

First of all, I like the amount of light. It's so bright in there that I rarely see the lights on during the day.  Second, it's usually pretty quiet.  Third, I'm surrouned by a bunch of people studying, just like me.  I feel it's a good place.

Since I started spending more time up there I've noticed a few interesting things.  Each day at about 9:45am, there is a tour group somewhere in the atrium.  I believe that this is a stop that everyone feels they need to make, because I see multiple tours up there every day.  Obviously it's an important spot for the school to show prospective students.  Another interesting aspect of the atrium is its view.  As you can see, the walls are made of windows.  This offers an expansive, panoramic view of Northfield, Faribault, Canon River, the hills and surrounding landscape, and beyond.  We are obviously set up very high, being on a hill, and I believe this placement is intentional.  Here the student is removed from the landscape laying below, and when he or she glances up from working, there is a whole vast horizon stretching out with endless opportunities. 

This view is very much like the Magesterial Gaze we've discussed in class.  By being on a hill, the school is removed from the community and placed ABOVE it.  From our vantage point we can look down out across the landscape, similarly to royalty viewing the surrounding kingdom. I don't think that St. Olaf considers itself royalty here, but I do think that this view can demonstrate a part of the school's view of education in relation to landscape.  We are physically removed from it, intentionally higher than the landscape, but at the same time we make sure we have a wonderful view of it, to think about it and our futures before us, how we can use our education out in that vast landscape below.

The View From My Room

This is my room.  I live on the fourth floor of Mohn Hall, one of the two towers on campus.  I feel like it's a good height; I only have to climb three flights of stairs, and that's not enough for me to justify taking the elevator.  The room has only this one window/set of three windows that you see in the picture to the right.  I love the fact that my windows face southward because most of the time we get so much natural lighting that turning on the light makes absolutely no difference.  The plants in this picture are a result of this light; my roommate and I are attempting to grow some herbs (basil, oregano, and lavender).  It's working pretty well!

The view from this window is the most interesting part of this setup, in my opinion.  Here's a picture of that view:

This view reminds me of Thomas Jefferson's view from Monticello.  I can see everything that goes on below me.  I'm high up, removed from the community below and yet I can see it all.  At night when I stand at my window, I feel creepy.  If someone looked up at my room, the lights behind me would make me VERY visible.  I suppose this is true during the day as well.  I felt a little strange taking the pictures, to be honest.

This view is very similar to the "magesterial gaze" we've discussed in class.  I'm up high, away from the scene below me which is a panorama spread out.  I can see far, much farther than I could from the ground.  There are many places on campus with this sort of view, and it makes me think about whether this was intentional.  I'll continue thinking on that one; meanwhile, I'll make sure to stay away from my windows at night so I don't scare anyone.

Routines

Yesterday I left late for class.  I barely made it in time and the walk there was less than enjoyable; I had to cut across paths and all the people walking "slowly" (a.k.a. more slowly than I was) were so frustrating!  About three quarters of the way there, I was stuck behind a slow group of friends, laughing and enjoying themselves, when I realized that my quest to get to class on time was making me less than friendly.  I was annoyed by people who were doing nothing wrong.  Maybe they were doing it right!  They were most definitely enjoying that walk much more than I was.

One reason I was late leaving for class is my adherence to my routine.  I'd gotten up five minutes late which meant I pushed back my shower by five minutes and then I finished getting ready five minutes later which pushed my packing back by five minutes which meant I walked out the door five minutes later than usual.  This routine happens almost every day, and for some reason my subconscious decided that I'd rather be a mad, fast walker than skip some part of my routine.

There are many small routines throughout the week that, while adding structure and regularity to my life, make me look inward while heading to different classes.  I'm worried about getting to class on time: which way is the fastest? How can I maneuver around that slow walker ahead? Why is this person being so inconsiderate, don't they know I need to get to class?  After thinking about this, I would say that this is not a healthy, or at least positive, way of going about my day.  When walking to class, I should look outward, paying attention to the community and landscape around me, even, and maybe especially, if it means breaking my routine for once.

My Country

Ytterboe Loop

Yesterday in my Nature and the American Landscape class we watched a video on Georgia O'Keeffe and a large portion of what she said resonated with me.  One idea in particular explains something that I have felt for a long time.  For her, New Mexico is her country.  Other places are nice, sure, but they aren't made for her like New Mexico is.

The idea of belonging to a place is something that I've thought about my whole life, and living away from home has especially solidified the truth that, like New Mexico is Georgia O'Keeffe's country, the Pacific Northwest is my country.  It's my home and I almost feel as if I belong there and nowhere else.  That is not to say that I do not enjoy being in other places.  If anything, because I feel so attached to my home I feel like I need to get away at least for a bit to experience other places.  This is one of the main reasons I came to St. Olaf, to experience a place quite different from what I am used to.

Another topic or theme that's important to our class is the imagined landscape.  What is it that I conjure up as beautiful when I think of a beautiful landscape?  It's different for each person; Georgia O'Keeffe would probably think of the desert of New Mexico, whereas others might think of a coral reef or a densely wooded forest.  This picture inside each of our heads adds to the lense that we see all landscape through, a concept we've called a constructivist point of view when discussing landscape art in class.  When Georgia O'Keeffe was talking about New Mexico being her country and her finding beauty in the desert, I realized that the reason I'm not finding anything here to be particularly engaging is that I'm viewing it through the lense of an Oregonian and trying to find places that remind me of home.  This is only furthered when I think of my favorite spots along my running route in the Natural Lands here on campus that I make sure to visit every time I'm out there.  Here are a few: (Also note the picture at the beginning of this post)

Road to STOGROW

Big Trees near Skoglund Pond

Notice the trees?  I do.  They're largely coniferous, evergreen trees, trees that I see near home.  They remind me of the forests that I hike through and live around.  I'm drawn to these places every time I go outside because of this. 

I feel like my view is a biased view, one trying too hard to find something to remind me of home.  While this will always be the case, my goal is to figure out what HERE is, not how here is similar to  THERE.  I want to appreciate this place more and discover how this campus makes itself a part of the Midwest landscape.  This I will try to do as I continue to reflect on the impact of this landscape on my life.

Questions

I'm not going to lie.  When I first heard about this assignment, I was scared, and I still am.  I've always thought of myself as reflective. However, when it comes down to it, I haven't thought very much about the land on this campus, at least not more than being annoyed when a garden piece I enjoy looking at is changed suddenly, or the construction around Thompson Hall forces me to change my usual commute.  I walk and spend time all over campus, but actually thinking about the places I spend time in just doesn't seem to happen.

So where do I begin?  What places mean the most to me?  Is it the land I spend the most time on?  What if I don't gain anything from that land, or the way it's laid out means nothing to me?  What about the places I spend the most time wishing I could go, but never make it?  When do I reflect on it?  How often do I reflect on it? How often should I reflect on it? Should I even force myself to reflect on it, will those thoughts be self-made to a negative extent?  If I don't, will I have enough time to develop something meaningful?

All these questions keep running through my mind, as well as many more.  I hope these will no longer be the questions I'm asking myself come December, or that if I am it's on a different level, not one based on this assignment.  I hope that I learn to look around and actually gain something from a walk to the library or a run in the woods.  Maybe I'll learn to appreciate the way the pathways are laid out, or maybe I'll find something to be annoyed with out in the natural lands.  Who knows?  Hopefully by the end I'll be able to tell the world what the landscape of this campus adds to my understanding of myself and my place here.