jdenvs3000-2018-blog - Tumblr blog

[jdenvs3000-2018-blog]

Oh geez, I love soap nuts! Another great (and free!) alternative to buying soap nuts is using horse chestnuts (link for how to do this here)! There are tons of horse chestnuts in Guelph to get them from too. I’ve personally opted for creating my own laundry detergent using castille soap, essential oils, baking soda, and washing soda, but I used to use soap nuts.

Also, something related to laundry... Patagonia has created a washing bag for synthetic garments to reduce the amount of microplastics and microfibres entering the waterways! I think this is a brilliant idea, and I’m sure you can find a cheaper version from an off-brand, since Patagonia is pretty expensive (more like Pata-gucci, right?).

Anyways, I just thought I’d include this to your reply in case you weren’t aware of these alternatives!

My place in nature

I figured I’d start this post off by defining what ethics mean to me - ethics are principles that follow a specified assortment of morals. In all honesty, I’m not totally sure that my ethics have changed since I started this course. I’ve always been a big believer and practicer of the Leave No Trace ethics ever since I was trained in LNT when I was sixteen. I also feel that LNT incorporates the practice of sustainability, in terms of nature interpretation, which is a big part of my life. Trying to be as sustainable as possible can be very hard, and honestly, we all have days when we can’t avoid waste or consumerism. I try to be sustainable in every aspect of my life - I carpool/bus/walk whenever I can, I live a low-waste/minimalist lifestyle, I eat vegan (I recently just celebrated my one month veg-anniversary!), and I try to incorporate my passion for protecting and conserving Mother Nature into everything I do. 

Following some friends backpacking the Highland trail 35km loop in Algonquin Park (2016).

The beliefs that I bring to my interpretations are that everything in nature matters, to respect Mother Nature at all costs, and to honour the land in the most respectful way possible. Now, you might think that I’m lying, but I’m really not - this is how much I care about nature and its future. Everything in nature matters. Simple as that. Everything has a purpose, and I try to emphasize this in my interpretation. I’m really interested in birds and plants (as I’m sure you’ve all gathered by now), but there are other things - the little things - that I also enjoy. Whenever I’m walking I tend to notice the fungi and lichen throughout the forest, and I’m constantly pointing them out and telling my friends all about them (walks take ten times longer when you bring me along). These fungi and lichen have their purpose in the ecosystem, and I am so appreciative of them that I can’t help but share them with others. Respecting Mother Nature is something that seems so elementary, yet so many people don’t do it. It can be as simple as picking up litter during a hike! And your actions speak to others - someone seeing you picking up some litter on a trail can inspire them to do the same or even be more conscious of their actions. Honouring the land is something that really resonates with me. I’ve been inspired by Indigenous practices and traditions for a long time now (my first powwow was in second grade), and I think we should be offering our respect to the Indigenous folks that were the first stewards of the land. This can be done in so many ways, but my favourite way is through land acknowledgement, which can be a simple or specific statement that acknowledges the territory that is being used, that the occupation of this territory is due to colonization, and offering respect to the Indigenous communities. Land is sacred and honouring the land helps acknowledge its history and significance. 

Trumpet lichen (Cladonia fimbriata) in the hemlock grove of Thunder Cape, Ontario (2017).

As a nature interpreter, I believe there are many responsibilities, but I’ll highlight a few of my main ones. Keeping the audience safe is my utmost priority, and I think this is the most important responsibility. This can be done through risk assessment and mitigation, both before and during the interpretation. Keeping the topic and discussions relevant - I can be side-tracked quite easily, so I am constantly trying to stay on topic! Another big one for me is keeping the audience entertained. I’ve personally never enjoyed icebreakers or team-building activities, so I never think to include these in any of my presentations, but for certain audiences, this can be super useful! I really enjoy learning cool facts and how to identify things in nature, and I tend to focus my interpretations based on this, so I need to work on incorporating facts with activities to keep the audience engaged. 

Upland sandpiper (Bartramia longicauda) on a fence post in the Carden Alvar, Ontario (2018).

For me personally, I find factual and practical approaches are the most suitable. I’m not comfortable with speaking to an audience (I’m working on it), but a lot of my default actions when I’m nervous are spewing out facts or talking in depth about something. I also find facts really stick with me, and I can remember them really well, which would be useful to add to my interpretations. Practical approaches like learning how to identify things work great for me, since I am very familiar and comfortable with identification. I find that my go-to combo is based on factual and practical approaches; my favourite is identifying something, talking about it: providing background information, its history, and how to identify it, then letting the audience go out and try to find it or another species they can identify, and then bringing everyone back in for a discussion about what they found and how they identified it. I think this is a great way to develop identification skills, since everyone can have a different perspective on the same object. 

Me backpacking the Western Uplands 35km loop with some friends in Algonquin Park (2017).

As a whole, I think this course has helped me strengthen my interpretation skills and has pushed me to interpret nature in so many new ways. I would like to offer thanks to everyone for making this course so enjoyable and for offering so many new perspectives that I had not previously considered. Happy trails!

[jdenvs3000-2018-blog]

I can really relate to what you said about being uncertain about your future. Currently, I’m debating on doing an extra year to incorporate a thesis into my degree or just going straight to graduate school. This decision is incredibly tough and compounded by many different factors, as I’m sure yours is too. While I am certain that I don’t want to pursue nature interpretation as a career, I still appreciate all of the skills and concepts that I have learned, and I plan on applying them into my everyday life. 

I think the three gifts you highlighted were some of the most interesting to me as well. I really resonate with the gift of provocation, and I think we all truly hope that we can inspire others to care about the things we are passionate about. This is still something I have to learn how to do effectively without seeming like I’m trying to push something onto someone. I also really liked how you tied the gift of targeted programs to privilege - this is something that I never thought to connect before, but it seems so obvious now that you’ve pointed it out.

Best of luck in your future! 

Hello, and welcome to my last blog post!

I’m in my fourth year, and this June I will be graduating. A lot of you are in your fourth year as well, but I’m sure that even those of you in your third year are beginning to sense the incoming end of your undergraduate degree and what that means. I know for certain that I want to pursue a Master’s degree, and I have a general idea of which schools and programs I want to apply to, however I don’t know if I want to take a break between my degrees to work or travel. Obviously, having choices is much better than not having choices, but it can sometimes feel like I keep finding new things I get excited about, and the list keeps growing instead of getting shorter. The point of this ramble is: I didn’t think when taking this course that I would come out the other end considering Nature Interpretation as a job. I knew it sounded interesting, and it would be a good skill to hone, but throughout the semester I feel like I’ve been noticing how small events in my life have been nudging me towards it. 

The summer of grade 10, my mom, sister, and I joined my mom’s best friend from university, his wife, and his son on a road trip from Seattle to Chicago. Their whole family is huge on nature and camping, and they have a plethora of knowledge on plants, animals, and the natural world – the dad is a zoologist who now works for the state of Illinois on managing invasive species, the mom is a wildlife photographer amongst her many hobbies, and the son is a veterinarian and a scoutmaster at the camp my sister and I also went to in Poland. Over the years, they have all taught me so much on topics on the environment that my mom (who studied child psychology) and my dad (who studied civil engineering) don’t always know too much about. Anyways, one of our stops was Yellowstone National Park. After interacting with our first park ranger there, my sister made a comment along the lines of ‘I can totally imagine that being you in the future’. That was meant as a joke, especially since at that point in my life I thought I wanted to be a dentist.

In April of this year I was in northern Queensland with friends on my first ever white-water rafting trip. I had such a great time and discovered I may have a passion for this crazy activity. Our guide’s name was Malcolm and he is definitely qualified for the top 10 coolest people I have ever met. He’s from a town in Minnesota, and had done his master’s in marine biology. After that he spent almost a year kayaking around the United States with a friend, until the white water rafting company discovered him from his Instagram and contacted him about a job. Now he’s been living in Australia for over a year and plans to continue doing it for as long as he can. He had an easy going demeanour, but he knew when to stop joking around and get us to concentrate on paddling when things began getting dangerous. He knew a lot about the river, the animals (and crocodiles!) and rainforest around us, and casually integrated facts into our conversations. I didn’t realize how much I had learned until the end of the day! I don’t know if he had been trained as a nature interpreter as part of his job, or if he did this naturally without realizing it, but after the adventure was over I was left with the impression that I want to do exactly what he does and become a white water rafting guide. Check out his Instagram, he’s a pretty interesting person

In September, we all visited the arboretum, and Chris Earley began the walk with an introduction about himself. He had done his undergrad in zoology and thought he had his career all planned out, until he spent a summer working as a nature interpreter in Bruce Peninsular National park and fell in love with it. It made me think how sometimes we find ourselves doing something completely different from what was planned, but that’s exactly where we were meant to be.

My friends and I, making our way through the rapids in Cairns, Australia.

I can’t say if I’m reading into these events too much, or if the universe is hinting that Nature Interpretation is my calling, but even if I don’t make a career of it, this course has taught me ‘gifts’ that I can continue to use in daily life. There are three gifts that I think made an impact on me in this course:

The gift of provocation: If people can see how much you are passionate about something, it leads by example and they can get inspired as well. Not only as a nature interpreter, but as an environmentalist, I hope that my passion for things will generate a spark of interest in others to get them interested in the things I talk about

The gift of targeted programs: Interpreting for different groups (like different age groups) should change the approach you take with delivering information. Outside of nature interpretation, I will put more conscious of tailoring my conversations to the individual. Not that I think I didn’t do so before, but reading this gift brought me more awareness to it. This also ties into the concept of invisible backpacks, and acknowledging that the experiences I have are exclusive to me, and not everyone has the same privileges.

The gift of professionalism: Interpretation takes practice, and you need background knowledge before you can develop your own style. Some people are afraid of public speaking, and a public speaking ability comes with practice. Throughout the semester I have developed a better understanding of my interpretation style (as I had never done it before), and have learned some new skills for public speaking, something I am still terrible at.

I hope to continue learning about becoming a better nature interpreter, as I believe these skills are not exclusive to the career, but can be applied in day to day life. Thanks for making it this far, it’s been a helluva ride! Peace out!

[jdenvs3000-2018-blog]

I’ve really enjoyed your blog posts throughout the semester - they’ve all been really insightful and thought provoking! I can really relate to what you said about  not having a set definition of nature interpretation - I think that nature interpretation is very subjective to the interpreter and that it can take so many different forms. 

I think that your principles are really neat and I find that they’re very camp counsellor-esque! I strongly agree with what you said about needing to create your own experiences; the best programs I’ve been involved in have all had some form of independent discovery. I think it’s also hard to describe things, like bird calls, until you actually hear it for yourself. I can really relate to your story of getting ‘lost’ in the woods. As a child, I would hangout with my friend who lived near a cemetery, and we would go through the cemetery, hop the fence, and go adventuring into the nearby fields and forests. Looking back now, I still have no idea where I ever was, but we knew we could find our way out eventually. 

I’ve recently been trying to push myself beyond my comfort, and it’s truly helping me get over some fears I have. I’m afraid of heights, but it’s mainly the act of getting myself to that height that terrifies me (I know this sounds so weird, right?). I’ve been experimenting with rock climbing to try to get over this fear, and while I still haven’t been able to get to the top of a wall, I’ve made some serious progress. And I think that your style of interpretation can help many others in a similar manner, so I really appreciate it! 

Interpretation: Not For the Weak-Hearted

When we went around the room on the first day of class, discussing our experience with interpretation, I didn’t have much of an answer. In fact, my answer was somewhere along the lines of “honestly, I don’t even know what nature interpretation is, and I’m here to find out”.

Over the course of the semester I’ve learned some solid foundations to help me figure out just what nature interpretation is. I’ve learned the basic principles of planning, running, and evaluating a walk. I’ve learned about how to balance risk to make sure that a program isn’t too boring or too scary. I’ve been able to, on multiple occasions, see professionals in the field interpreting nature and setting an example. The funny thing is, if you were to ask me today what nature interpretation is, I still don’t think I’d be able to answer. This isn’t however, because I’ve learned nothing. This is because I’ve learned one very important thing: nature interpretation can be done an infinite amount of ways. Interpretation is as much an art form as anything; the art of grabbing an audience’s attention and holding it through a presentation, ensuring each member walks away with something.

This leaves me to consider where I fit into the world of interpretation. I think that I bring a very specific view of the field with me, and as such have broken my ethic as an interpreter into three fundamental principles:

1)      Let people be free to discover on their own. In my opinion, the best way to learn is through experience.  Someone once told me that “experience is a bitch of teacher, but it’s a damn good one”, and as I consider this, I begin to realize how many of the lessons that I will never forget are ones that I learned from experience. Because of experience, I know that if a mountain bike trail is marked as “professionals only”, one should probably listen to it or risk some serious wipe-outs. Because of experience, I know that reef sharks are only going to chase you if you run from them: the best thing to do is stand your ground. Because of experience, I know that some of the best stories come from times when you had no plan, no idea, and no direction. This is something that I think everyone should experience, and as much as I can teach people facts and lessons about nature, few of them will truly grasp my point until they learn it from experience.

(What do you do with a single free day in Victoria? Follow vague directions to a local knowledge spot and climb out over a 200+ foot drop into a gorge of course. No plan, no idea, no direction - just four guys and a goal)

2)      Life begins outside of your comfort zone. Contrary to what we spoke about in class, I’m a firm believer that people should be constantly challenged, and that the best way to experience nature is to constantly put yourself in a state of discomfort. When I’m home for the holidays, I’ll often go for walks through the forest near my house. Its easy to get to and a good way to spend an afternoon. Last year, however, I decided I didn’t want to do that anymore because I’d grown up in that forest and it wasn’t new anymore. Instead of walking the same trail, I ended up bushwhacking and doing some off-trail exploring. I ended up in waist-deep snow. I found an abandoned hobo camp. I tracked a deer for 40 minutes, trespassed on in a farmer’s field, and still couldn’t find it. And best of all, I got hopelessly lost. I found myself in a very uncomfortable position: I had no idea where I was and was running out of daylight. Now, before I go any further its important to mention that this forest isn’t massive; I knew I could walk in any direction for under two hours and figure out where I am (I’ve been briefly but genuinely lost in an expansive forest before and its not something I’m eager to do again – see section 1). However, trudging through the snow trying to find something familiar afforded me two benefits. First, I began to notice little things in the environment that I hadn’t before in my desperate attempt to find something familiar. And second, I felt more alive than I had in a long time. All I had was myself and my skills to rely on. I trusted myself to find my way home, and I felt powerful when I eventually did. I do my best to do things that make me this kind of uncomfortable as often as I can - from illegally climbing through gorges in the Pilbara Region of Western Australia, to snorkeling with sharks and stonefish on the Ningaloo Reef, to boating into polar bear territory to collect firewood in the Cree Nation of Wemindji, to something as simple as walking through the Arboretum at night and trying not to jump at the shadows. The times in life when I am most exhilarated, and the times when I grow the most, are the times that I am deliberately uncomfortable. This is something that I think people need more than ever in a time when so much of our society and technology is focused on keeping us comfortable (read: numb).

(”What do you mean we’re going past the stop sign? Isn’t that illegal?” “Yes it is, Calder, but you won’t believe what’s down there!”)

3)      Give no quarter. There are obvious exceptions to this one, but as a general rule I believe that most people are capable of that which they think they are not. Last year, I underwent surgery to fix a foot that had been broken for two years. While this surgery fixed the break itself, it didn’t fix the chronic pain that accompanied it, and since March I’ve lived in near constant pain. Despite this, I continue to live my life the way I did before the surgery, and before the break. It takes some more teeth-gritting, some extra care, and a lot of Tylenol, but I have been able to meet (and exceed) my limitations despite this injury. I’m now a part of a gold-medal winning Quidditch team, I run 8 kilometres almost daily, and I’m in the best shape of my life. I have had the good fortune to realize that my injury can’t hold me back, and as an interpreter I think this is an important concept to pass on. Anyone and everyone can be outdoorsy, in most cases the only thing holding people back from going on a hiking trip, jumping into a lake, or climbing a mountain are their own perceived limitations that stop them from trying in the first place.

(A fracture of the 5th metatarsal - broken for over two years…)

(…and 8 months later, a regional gold medalist) 

If I had to sum up my ‘style’ as an interpreter in a single word, I’d choose “unforgiving”. My ideal program is one that promoted experiential learning that will make you uncomfortable and realize the only thing holding you back all along was yourself.

[jdenvs3000-2018-blog]

My place in nature

I figured I’d start this post off by defining what ethics mean to me - ethics are principles that follow a specified assortment of morals. In all honesty, I’m not totally sure that my ethics have changed since I started this course. I’ve always been a big believer and practicer of the Leave No Trace ethics ever since I was trained in LNT when I was sixteen. I also feel that LNT incorporates the practice of sustainability, in terms of nature interpretation, which is a big part of my life. Trying to be as sustainable as possible can be very hard, and honestly, we all have days when we can’t avoid waste or consumerism. I try to be sustainable in every aspect of my life - I carpool/bus/walk whenever I can, I live a low-waste/minimalist lifestyle, I eat vegan (I recently just celebrated my one month veg-anniversary!), and I try to incorporate my passion for protecting and conserving Mother Nature into everything I do. 

Following some friends backpacking the Highland trail 35km loop in Algonquin Park (2016).

The beliefs that I bring to my interpretations are that everything in nature matters, to respect Mother Nature at all costs, and to honour the land in the most respectful way possible. Now, you might think that I’m lying, but I’m really not - this is how much I care about nature and its future. Everything in nature matters. Simple as that. Everything has a purpose, and I try to emphasize this in my interpretation. I’m really interested in birds and plants (as I’m sure you’ve all gathered by now), but there are other things - the little things - that I also enjoy. Whenever I’m walking I tend to notice the fungi and lichen throughout the forest, and I’m constantly pointing them out and telling my friends all about them (walks take ten times longer when you bring me along). These fungi and lichen have their purpose in the ecosystem, and I am so appreciative of them that I can’t help but share them with others. Respecting Mother Nature is something that seems so elementary, yet so many people don’t do it. It can be as simple as picking up litter during a hike! And your actions speak to others - someone seeing you picking up some litter on a trail can inspire them to do the same or even be more conscious of their actions. Honouring the land is something that really resonates with me. I’ve been inspired by Indigenous practices and traditions for a long time now (my first powwow was in second grade), and I think we should be offering our respect to the Indigenous folks that were the first stewards of the land. This can be done in so many ways, but my favourite way is through land acknowledgement, which can be a simple or specific statement that acknowledges the territory that is being used, that the occupation of this territory is due to colonization, and offering respect to the Indigenous communities. Land is sacred and honouring the land helps acknowledge its history and significance. 

Trumpet lichen (Cladonia fimbriata) in the hemlock grove of Thunder Cape, Ontario (2017).

As a nature interpreter, I believe there are many responsibilities, but I’ll highlight a few of my main ones. Keeping the audience safe is my utmost priority, and I think this is the most important responsibility. This can be done through risk assessment and mitigation, both before and during the interpretation. Keeping the topic and discussions relevant - I can be side-tracked quite easily, so I am constantly trying to stay on topic! Another big one for me is keeping the audience entertained. I’ve personally never enjoyed icebreakers or team-building activities, so I never think to include these in any of my presentations, but for certain audiences, this can be super useful! I really enjoy learning cool facts and how to identify things in nature, and I tend to focus my interpretations based on this, so I need to work on incorporating facts with activities to keep the audience engaged. 

Upland sandpiper (Bartramia longicauda) on a fence post in the Carden Alvar, Ontario (2018).

For me personally, I find factual and practical approaches are the most suitable. I’m not comfortable with speaking to an audience (I’m working on it), but a lot of my default actions when I’m nervous are spewing out facts or talking in depth about something. I also find facts really stick with me, and I can remember them really well, which would be useful to add to my interpretations. Practical approaches like learning how to identify things work great for me, since I am very familiar and comfortable with identification. I find that my go-to combo is based on factual and practical approaches; my favourite is identifying something, talking about it: providing background information, its history, and how to identify it, then letting the audience go out and try to find it or another species they can identify, and then bringing everyone back in for a discussion about what they found and how they identified it. I think this is a great way to develop identification skills, since everyone can have a different perspective on the same object. 

Me backpacking the Western Uplands 35km loop with some friends in Algonquin Park (2017).

As a whole, I think this course has helped me strengthen my interpretation skills and has pushed me to interpret nature in so many new ways. I would like to offer thanks to everyone for making this course so enjoyable and for offering so many new perspectives that I had not previously considered. Happy trails!

[jdenvs3000-2018-blog]

First off, I’m not in this group, but I thought I would chime in on some of the points you mentioned. I really liked how you related this Jane’s Walk to the gift of story - I also recognized this throughout the walk! I think it is one of the best gifts to be included in a walk on Indigenous culture, since these cultures rely heavily on story-telling, and it is deeply rooted in their history. One thing I do wish was included in this walk was a more substantial land acknowledgement or how the University of Guelph is working towards reconciliation with Indigenous peoples.

As for resources around campus that can provide information or knowledge about Indigenous communities in Guelph and Canada as a whole, I would strongly suggest visiting OPIRG! This is my favourite on-campus resources that facilitates discussion and provides background knowledge on environmental and social justice. Seriously, just walk in during their office hours and talk with Mandy or browse through their library and pamphlets/zines. 

Since you included some photos from a powwow in Alberta, I thought I would include one of mine from a powwow in Algonquin Park! Every year in August, the Algonquins host a powwow at Whitefish Lake in the park, and campers and visitors can come for a small fee (I think it was like $5). I think it’s interesting to see how similar yet different the traditional regalia are between the western Indigenous communities in your photos and the central/eastern Indigenous communities in my photo.

Algonquin dressed in traditional regalia at the Whitefish powwow (2016).

Reflection on Indigenous People of Guelph

First off I would like to say that I very much enjoyed your interpretive Jane’s walk. I really learned a lot from your presentation and I found it very interesting. The three gifts that I recognized in your groups presentation was the gift of story, target programs and professionalism.

The Gift of Professionalism

I found that your group was very informative in a respectful way and made the audience, especially me, reflect on things around campus which we have not really put much thought into. Which I find is very important in an interpretive walk. It was also very interesting how you guys talked about moon cycles and womanly things. It was a great connection of nature interpretation, with the sky and stars, and the science of our bodies.

The Gift of Targeted Programs

One of the main things I will take away from your group was the smudging ceremony. I have heard of them and seen them, but I have never participated before. It was a very beautiful and special part of your presentation which I am very glad you incorporated. I also really enjoyed how each stop had an exact purpose with a purpose which led into the gift of story.

The Gift of Story

I also really enjoyed how the group discussed some things around campus that I had not known about, such as the peace pole. I, like many around me at the time, was very shocked that we have passed by that spot many times and have never realized that the peace pole was right there. I also like how you guys further explained about the languages around it and went into detail about how peace poles are located globally and represent peace among all men and woman no matter the differences.

Lastly, I enjoyed how you incorporated Remembrance Day and how it was the following day, and summed up your presentation with us standing in front of the War Memorial building. It brought some great history on what it was like to be First Nation, Inuit or Metis in that time period and connected it to the exact timing of what is going on presently.

I would also like to say that one thing I wish you mentioned is more stuff on how we can get educated further on this topic. I for one did not know that we had an aboriginal research center and I would like to know more about what they do there and how other people can get involved. If you guys read my post I would love to learn about more ways on campus or off on where I can get educated further on your topic! Great work though, thank you!

Powwow at Waterton Lakes National Park after the big Kenow Wild Fire.

I wanted to end this post in saying that your walk also made me reflect on these topics that you spoke very nicely about and made me think about my own personal experiences. The two pictures that I have incorporated in this post are taken by me from my experience going to a powwow in Alberta this summer. I had the privilege to speak with some of the people who participated in the ceremonies and traditions and I feel that your presentation represented this topic very very well. You talked about history, traditions, customs and the beauty of their beliefs and I really enjoyed how you presented it.

Powwow at Waterton Lakes National Park after the big Kenow Wild Fire.

[jdenvs3000-2018-blog]

In Search of the Rare

On Tuesday morning, I ventured out to Burlington in search of the male black-throated gray warbler. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the birding world, the black-throated gray warbler is a small, migratory bird that nests in coniferous forests in western North America. This bird was first seen by Brete Griffin on November 3 and is considered rare for Ontario, since it typically only lives in western United States as far west as the western border of Texas. Since this bird is so rare, it has attracted a lot of attention from the birding community and is currently the most photographed Ontario bird in November. I wanted to be able to add this bird to my life list, and I figured this was the best opportunity I would have to see this bird in Ontario.

Male black-throated gray warbler (Setophaga nigrescens) in Burlington, Ontario (2018).

On Monday, I ended up heading to Burlington at 15:45 to try and get a glimpse of the bird before sunset, but unfortunately, after searching for an hour, I never ended up seeing it. So the next day, I woke up at 7:30 and kept checking eBird and Facebook for any new reports of the warbler. I ended up leaving my house around 9:00 and picking up my friend Kaitlin, who also was interested in adding it to her list. We arrived around 9:45, and there was no sign of the warbler until 10:30. By 10:45 there were about 15 birders that were watching this bird move throughout the trees. Even some dog-walkers stopped by to see what was up, since I guess it would look pretty odd to see 15 people with binoculars and cameras pointed at this one tree. After 11:15 the warbler had disappeared from sight, and we ended up heading back to Guelph to try to make it back in time for our classes. We were both very happy to finally add this bird to our lists after it had been hanging around for a while.

[jdenvs3000-2018-blog]

Neature Walks: Ethnobotany

I’ve chosen to discuss the ethnobotany walk that was presented by Group 2 in the Arboretum. I found this walk was particularly well-done and was presented in an effective manner. I also thought that the topic was a great choice given the course material and reflected a lot on how nature can be useful for humans. The three gifts that I noticed within the walk were the gifts of beauty, story, and targeted programs.

The grasslands of Brooks, Alberta (2018). I’ve often found myself fully-immersed in the beauty of this landscape and the organisms it harbours.

Gift of beauty

I thought that including the idea of shinrin-yoku in this program was a great idea, and this was my favourite part of the walk! I have participated in many forms of nature bathing, but I’ve never had it explained through a cultural sense, mainly just as a spiritual experience, which was a great switch-up for me! I think the mini nature bath that Katharine lead was a great way to bring everything we learned together. I think this activity highlighted the true beauty of nature, especially in terms of the whole-bodied experience of it.

Gift of story

The gift of story was exceptionally emphasized in Justine’s presentation about maple trees and syrup. She reflected on her personal experience making maple syrup with her family, suggesting that this is a simple method through which we can all participate in and appreciate nature. She also walked us through the process of tapping a tree and turning the sap into syrup, and she explained this in a way that was easy to understand. It was as if her entire presentation as all one big story, from her recounting her experience and identifying the process that makes maple syrup, everything was well-connected and relevant to her topic.

The flower of the plains prickly pear cactus (Opuntia polyacantha) in Brooks, Alberta (2018). A common plant I would encounter during the summer. 

Gift of targeted programs

The presentation on wild carrot reflected the gift of targeted programs well. This presentation allowed the audience to participate in choosing between two plants that appear very similar, one being poisonous (water hemlock) and one being edible (wild carrot). This allowed the audience to put their skills to the test and then learn about some identification tips and more information about wild carrot. This presentation served as a great introduction to identifying wild plants and using them for sustenance. 

Since this walk was well-executed, there are very few suggestions I can offer for improvement. I think the gift of targeted programs could have been a bit better developed by using a mounted specimen from the herbarium to show the plants rather than a picture on a laptop. I only suggest this because it can be difficult to interpret size or scale from an image, and an actual specimen would have solved this issue. This would make it easier to distinguish between wild carrot and water hemlock, since water hemlock is taller and has a larger inflorescence than wild carrot. Also, presenting an actual specimen rather than an image would have been more immersive for the activity. Perhaps even introducing other common plants and how to identify them would have been appropriate here as well. 

Overall, this walk was well-planned and presented some interesting information about ethnobotany. This walk was probably my favourite and the most memorable out of all of the walks on Saturday, so I’m glad that I had the opportunity to participate!

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This post was so informative, and I think that watching scientific or informational movies is a great way to take a break from class rather than watching some sitcom that isn’t really relevant to the real world. 

Interestingly enough, during my O-week many moons ago, the first event I took part in was the screening of Blackfish with the Animal Biology club! I had never heard of the movie before, and it was so eye-opening. I love how you mentioned Bill S-203! A great way to get involved in this is by writing a letter your local MP (Lloyd Longfield is the one in Guelph) and tell them why they should support this bill or even ask where they stand with relation to this bill (be sure to include your address, otherwise it’s filed in the blue filing cabinet aka recycling bin). Brault and Caswell (1993) actually published a paper on the pod-specific demography of killer whales and highlighted how massive their home range is, so keeping them in much smaller aquariums is not completely ethical. Also, if folks are interested in animal rights activism, like supporting this bill, definitely come to a GSETA meeting - we actually all wrote letters to MP Longfield on Thursday! 

I’m definitely going to end up checking out these other movies that you mentioned in the post, since I’ve never heard of them before! In the BBC series Life, they have an episode on killer whales (Orcinus orca) that highlights the information (which is very little!) about this animal and how they live as the ocean’s top predator. Also, if anyone has any questions about killer whales, I’m doing a species account on them for a project in my integrative vertebrate biology course, and I’d be happy to talk! 

Films that teach us something about science

Movies have an undeniable impact on our view of the world. Some movies apply this lens to nature, and teach the general public concepts in new and interesting ways. Fictional movies certainly are able to do this, but in terms of relaying real stories, documentaries do it best.  Let’s talk about 3 in particular that I believe do this in a more provoking way.

Blackfish

Possibly one of the most obvious selections, the impact of Blackfish was one of the most significant societal reactions to a documentary in modern history. The movie struck a chord so deep, it accelerated the movement to boycott Seaworld, and by extension other marine zoos like MarineLand. Currently in Canada, people are celebrating the passing of the senate passing a bill which would ban whale and dolphin captivity. The bill, which mainly would hit primarily the Vancouver Aquarium and Marineland, received a wide amount of public support much accredited to the widely released film. This movie didn’t just uncover the horrific conditions that marine animals face in captivity, it also educated people on the majesty of orca whales; their intelligence, psychology and habitat requirements. If you watched and were captivated by Blackfish, the Cove will fascinate you even more (but it is not for the faint of heart).

Chasing Ice

One of my go-to answers to the intimidating question “what’s your favourite movie?”, this one had me tied in from the get. Not only combining the interpretive magic of photography and storytelling, this film also justifies the result. The trials and tribulations of the Extreme Ice Survey are brought to a wider audience, along with the incredible talent of James Balog. Footage of the largest calving event ever caught on tape and the explanation of black soot melting holes and accelerating the diminishment of glaciers are not things I will soon forget.

An Inconvenient Truth

Undeniably the movie that put me on the path to studying environmental science, Al Gore broke down concepts of climate change in a way that my seventh grade brain can understand - and then get super stressed out about. The original even included a Simpsons-esque animation to explain global warming. For me, this movie was an introduction to concepts like acid rain, greenhouse gases, and meteorology. And Al Gore presented all the ideas in a soft but urgent tone that inspired learning. Sigh, if only the popular vote decided the president. I didn’t find An Inconvenient Sequel as necessarily captivating, likely because my optimism was more easily induced back then. I’d be interested to know if any of you watched each a few years apart and felt the same way.

In all three films, the crossover of storytelling and conveying scientific information blends perfectly to captivate an audience. Though the ideas presented aren’t always the most accurate, and often come with criticism, they are presented in thought provoking and simple ways that much of the general public would be able to understand. What are your favourite documentaries? And what do you think makes them so great?

More faves: The Cove, Before the Flood, any episode of Planet Earth, and literally anything with Bill Nye in it.

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Beginner’s Guide to Winter Birding

Okay, so first thing’s first, if you’re interested in birding in the winter, you must come prepared (and be tough as nails!). What you need: binoculars (an absolute must!), spotting scope (if you have one), camera, bird field guide (I personally recommend Sibley), field notebook or phone to keep a checklist, and lots of layers of warm clothing. Now, that you’re ready to go, you have to choose which type of birds you want to see; this can be birds you’re the most familiar with or can be birds you have less experience with and would like to gain experience. For this post, I’m just going to break it down into three categories: winter finches and allies, shorebirds and gulls, and owls.

Winter finches and allies

Some of the most colourful and cheery birds to see in the winter are the finches; their songs tend to be quite musical and upbeat, which can help raise spirits when you’re freezing outside. Some of my favourites are white-winged crossbills, purple finches, and evening grosbeaks. The best places to see purple finches and evening grosbeaks are at bird feeders, and they will come in super flocks (the most I’ve seen at one feeder was 47). Basically, if you feed them, they will come (if you live in their range of course!). Since finches and grosbeaks are attracted to feeders, you can incorporate them into a nice lunch break where you sit inside and watch them at the feeder while having hot soup or tea. Crossbills are a little bit more tricky to find, but they can be found on coniferous trees eating the pinecones (that’s what their bills are specialized for). They have this beautiful song, so you can keep an ear out while walking through a pine stand. The best place to see all of these birds (in my opinion) is Algonquin Park - you can find the finches and grosbeaks at the feeders at the Visitor Centre and the crossbills are typically found along trails or Lake Opeongo road. You can also see these birds in Guelph, but why not drag your friends to Algonquin to go birding?

Purple finch male (Haemorhous purpureus) in Algonquin Park (2018).

Evening grosbeak male (Coccothraustes vespertinus) in Algonquin Park (2018).

White-winged crossbill female (Loxia leucoptera) in Algonquin Park (2018).

Shorebirds and gulls

These are some of the hardest birds to identify, especially gulls, since they all look relatively identical. This is also where a scope can come in handy, since these birds will be sitting or flying around large lakes at far distances; the field guide is a must for these birds! My favourites to see in the winter are harlequin ducks, black-legged kittiwakes, and surf scoters. A great place to go gull-watching is Niagara Falls - the gulls tend to congregate on the river above the falls and also fly through the mist at the bottom of the falls. Harlequin ducks are beautiful sea ducks that do not normally exist in Ontario, but tend to get trapped here in the winter by weather systems - the same is true for black-legged kittiwakes, but these two birds are commonly found in the winter. Surf scoters are these weird looking sea duck that has this hump on their beak, common to all scoters. These are birds that you will be freezing for - the bitter winds from lakes can be bone-chilling, and you’ll also be standing for quite a while staring into large flocks trying to find one bird in particular. 

Herring gull adult (Larus argentatus) in Niagara Falls (2018).

Owls

These are some of my favourite birds to see in the winter, even though I haven’t really been winter owling that much. The most common owl you will see during the winter is the snowy owl. You can also see some long-eared and short-eared owls if you head more south towards Niagara. Spotting snowy owls can be quite tricky! A plastic bag caught in a tree or a hump of snow in a field can look a lot like an owl - this sounds silly, but it’s incredibly true! Personally, the method that is the most effective for me is just driving around side roads that are surrounded by farm land and fields. Typically, you will find snowy owls sitting on fence posts, hydro poles, or flying and hunting for mice in fields. These birds can look quite moody and basically stare daggers at you if you stop to see them. Another important note is to really keep your distance (I’d recommend 20-40m) away from them, since owls are typically snoozing during the day and will be mobbed by nearby crows or jays if they are spotted.

Snowy owl male (Bubo scandiacus) in Kawartha Lakes (2015).

Hopefully, you’ve all become a bit more interested in the hobby and art of winter birding and will go out sometime this winter. Happy birding!

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First off, that meme of the shrike as Vlad the Impaler is killer! I don’t know how I haven’t seen something of that essence before.

I love shrikes, like seriously, they are the smallest bird of prey and are just so amazing! Have you had the opportunity to see one? This past summer, I saw my first loggerhead shrike (which is embarrassing considering I live so close to the Carden Alvar)! I had the amazing opportunity to see a clutch of 5 hatchlings grow up and eventually fledge, which was a proud parent moment for me. Also, when you were writing this post, were you mainly picturing the loggerhead shrike or the northern shrike? For me, it was the loggerhead shrike, but the northern shrike is the more common species.

The loggerhead shrike fledgelings I mentioned earlier (Brooks, AB 2018).

I’m not sure if you’re really into birds or not, but the Field Guide to Dumb Birds of North America is a great blog if you can appreciate deprecating humour with respect to birds. This blog actually has some accurate and cool facts about birds but while describing them in a humorous manner.

A Natural Horror Story

This week, we were prompted to write about thing that we find most amazing about nature. When I initially read this, I had a lot of problems figuring out what to write about. I thought about how nature is constantly changing, yet always seems to stay the same. I thought about the mystery of the deep ocean, and how life can persist in a place where it was never thought to be able to. I thought about caves, and how the species in them have adapted to live in an area without sunlight or vegetation. But when I was thinking about all of these broad topics, it dawned on me that the most amazing thing I know about nature isn’t broad at all – its incredibly specific. And given the time of year, it seems appropriate to write about:

The shrike.

Colloquially known as the Butcher Bird, the shrike is a tiny bird of prey. Weighing in between 35 and 50 grams, the shrike is about the size of a robin. Unlike the robin, however, the shrike doesn’t prey primarily on worms and insects. While smaller prey do compose a portion of its diet, the shrike is also a hunter of much larger prey – like frogs, snakes, turtles, and even other birds. Because of this, the shrike faces a big challenge; its talons are much too small to hold its prey in place while it consumes them. To account for this, the shrike has evolved a macabre behavioural technique.

After making a kill, the shrike will take its prey to a plant with thorns, a particularly sharp twig, or even a barbed-wire fence, and impale its meal on the spike. With its prey immobilized, it is free to feast, or leave it there as a store for later.

This paints a very morbid, yet interesting picture in my mind. Imagine being a small mammal of some kind and wandering into a new area. All of a sudden you start to see skewered carcasses of other, similar creatures high up in trees, some partially eaten, others left drying up in the sun. Scared, you look around, but thankfully the giant beast that committed this atrocity isn’t anywhere in sight. In fact, the only other creature you see is a small bird, eyeing you from a branch. You aren’t sure if it knows the danger its in, so you try to warn it! You watch as it leaves its perch and flies in your direction, tiny talons out…

Now, this idea is both made up and perhaps a little fantasized, but the points still stands: for a small mammal in shrike territory, life can change into a horror story very quickly. The scariest part of this? Its not a concept that is alien to the human experience. Yes, the hunting techniques of the shrike  bear a striking resemblance to those of Vlad the Impaler, a killer who was famous for impaling his victims and using their corpses to decorate his property.

Others may not have the same macabre appreciation for the shrike as I do, but anyone would have to admit that such a solution to a complicated problem is, in its own terrifying way, amazing.

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Why did the chicken cross the road: A story of migration

I was so excited to write the post for this week, especially because I find so many natural phenomena so amazing! Since I’m so interested in nature and the environment, I could write a new post on something I’m excited in nature every week, but my post this week will focus on migration, specifically songbird migration.

Male redhead (Aythya americana), which will commonly be seen migrating to southern Ontario for the winter (Niagara River, 2017).

Every year billions of songbirds migrate thousands of kilometres during spring and autumn, typically following increasing resources. How and when these birds know when to migrate and where to migrate to is still not completely understood, which I find so crazy! Why and when do birds migrate? Migration is thought to be triggered by the synergistic effects of changes in day length, temperatures, food supplies, and genetics. In fact, first-year birds typically make their first migration on their own, locating their wintering grounds without ever being there before. So how do birds know where to go? Research suggests that birds can determine their geographic position from the sun and stars, Earth’s magnetic fields, and even smell! 

During the spring of 2017 I worked as a bird bander at Thunder Cape Bird Observatory. From May to June, we observed roughly 1,000 species of birds migrating, and I was able to band over 200 individuals (wow!). However, out of all of the birds I banded, one in particular stood out to me - the white-winged dove (like the Stevie Nicks song!). During breeding season, white-winged doves are typically found as far north as Oklahoma, so what the heck was one doing in Thunder Bay? My initial thought was that this bird was an escapee from someone’s personal collection, but it showed no signs of domestication (no bands, not comfortable around humans, etc). The day after its arrival, we ended up catching it in a mist net, and I had the honour of banding it. After it was banded, the bander-in-charge at TCBO photographed it for documentation, since it was such an unlikely observation. That evening we all sat down and shared our theories as to how this bird arrived here. The most common suggestion was that this bird was a vagrant that was blown off course by a weather system and was displaced to Thunder Bay.

White-winged dove (Zenaida asiatica) at Thunder Cape Bird Observatory (2017).

One of the reasons that I find avian migration so interesting is that there is still so much that is not understood about it. Being involved in collecting data on bird migration has really opened my eyes to how complex this behaviour is and made me interested in continuing to study birds. 

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I found your post very thought-provoking and insightful! I feel like everyone has something that they struggle to make connections with, personally mine is writing or literature. 

I could really relate to your personal experience during your hike. In high school, I had a “sit-spot” at my house that I would frequent, so that I could experience nature and take a break from my social life. I found it interesting to see how different my sit-spot would be from week to week - the birds migrating, leaves falling, and sounds changing. I wonder if having your own sit-spot might help you foster your connection with music and nature.

On another note, the song you included made me think of the song Asleep by The Smiths. At the beginning and end of this song, there is a sample of wind blowing through the leaves. While this song does not necessarily have anything whatsoever to do with nature, I find it very calming, similar to sitting down somewhere and just listening to the wind. Maybe you’ll find the same. :)

Struggling for a connection

      For some reason I struggled with this weeks prompt. I expected everyone’s blogs to be wind through the trees and campfire songs. But they were so much more intimate, well thought out and diverse. It really bothered me that I didn’t have an immediate connection like I thought I would. I love music, I make way to many playlists, music makes me cry, I’m an artist. Then why can’t I easily find my connection between music and nature?

           I’ve never been a fan of forced art. It seems painful and misses the point of why we create, consume and feel. I don’t want to lie and say certain pieces of music have enhanced my relationship with nature when they haven’t. It feels like these songs can only touch the surface for me. The closest I can get to is when I’ve felt the erg to run away from everything and just live in the wild, the song Coastline by Hollowcoves puts me into that mindset.

           The song transports me to a beach out east. Although the lyrics sing “someplace under the sun” I picture an overcast day with only a little bit of sun falling through. The song is about finding that peaceful place. For the artist it was a sunny place, for me it was a cloudy place. Yet we both are searching for the same feeling of a deep breath and big sigh.

           One day I took a night hike with a group of students from my high school. It was pitch black, we were asked to take 20 steps off into our own distance (a distance felt a lot further at night than in the day). When we got to our spots we took a seat on our own and were to sit there in silence. Except there wasn’t silence. There was the breeze, leaves rustling, insects buzzing and so much more. There was the most complex of noises working together to make a single song. That was a moment I felt a connection from the sounds of nature.

           Not everyone can have connections to everything. As interpreters we have an incredibly large task of providing people with connections and emotions. Although I was sad that I couldn’t find an immediate meaningful connection to this weeks’ prompt I was put in the position that many visitors to parks or nature based programs are. It’s frustrating to see others have a relationship that you don’t understand or have.

          Music is a great way to help connect people to nature when they feel like an outsider. Empathy for when they can’t is imperative to being an understanding and effective naturalist interpreter.

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Musical Nature

In all honesty, when I read this week’s blog prompt, I was so excited! Music has always been near and dear to my heart. I learned to play the alto saxophone when I was 11, the piano when I was 13, and the ukulele when I was 17. While I’ve drifted away from playing music since university, I have grown a greater appreciation for it - you can always find me at a local show or listening to tunes wherever I am. Actually, the last show I went to was last Thursday, and it was so good! I joined some friends at the eBar and saw Softside, a local band that makes tender music, and Deltawill, a band from Toronto that plays existential pop (definitely check these bands out!). Anyways, as you can all tell, I am really passionate about music!

Two male Bobolinks perched on the fence at my parent’s house (2015).

When asked “Where is music in nature?”, I first thought “Where isn’t there?”. Whether it’s the wind rustling through the trees, birds singing their dawn chorus, or squirrels running through leaves. I’m not sure there is ever a time when nature is truly silent; there’s always some sort of white noise. One of my favourite sounds in nature is the song of a Bobolink. Their song is so cheery and bubbly, and it immediately reminds me of my parent’s home where we have a nesting pair in our hayfield. It also brings the memory of my father first showing me a male Bobolink perched on our fence post singing his little heart out, and my father telling me how there used to be so much more of them when he was younger and that they’re listed as a species-at-risk. 

I find that so many musicians try to emulate the sounds and feelings of nature in their work, which I find really interesting. One of my favourite songs that has an element of nature is The Wolves by Ben Howard. In this song, the artist emulates the sounds of wolves howling, reminding me of the many summer nights I’ve spent in Algonquin Provincial Park listening to the wolves howling. Another artist that encompasses the spiritual aspects of nature is A Tribe Called Red. Composed of Indigenous musicians, A Tribe Called Red combines traditional First Nations drumming and chanting with electronic music. While I’m not much of a fan of electronic music, I find A Tribe Called Red has met halfway with its listeners to provide a more modern rendition of traditional Indigenous music. 

Photo of myself and other FFG and community members marching to Lloyd Longfield’s office to oppose the Kinder Morgan Trans-Mountain Pipeline expansion (photo taken by Sonam Perello)

Some other music that I just couldn’t leave out of this post are At The Bird’s Foot by City and Colour and the People Gonna Rise Like The Water chant by 350.org. At The Bird’s Foot really resonates with me as an environmental activist. This song discusses the Deepwater Horizon oil spill in 2010 that released almost 5 million barrels of oil into the Gulf of Mexico. As a member of Fossil Free Guelph (FFG), I am constantly drawn back to this event and how our current methods of resource extraction are so dirty and not environmentally sustainable in the slightest. People Gonna Rise Like The Water was the main chant of FFG’s march to MP Lloyd Longfield’s office on March 23, 2018 as part of a national day of action to defend the water and show our opposition to Kinder Morgan’s Trans-Mountain Pipeline expansion. The Trans-Mountain expansion plans to go through unceded Tsleil-Waututh territory, on which the government does not have informed prior consent to build. The lyrics are: People gonna rise like the water, Gotta calm this crisis down/Hear the voice of your great-granddaughter, Saying ‘Keep it in the ground’. I think these lyrics send such a powerful message, and they’re simple enough that everyone could easily chant them. Anyways, I thought I would include these two songs in this post for anyone else that is really into environmental activism.

Links:

More info on Deepwater Horizon

More info on Kinder Morgan’s Trans-Mountain Pipeline

Link to Fossil Free Guelph’s Defend the Water - Stop KM March

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I found your perspective of beauty, art, and nature very profound, which is amazing!

I also agree that it was fascinating how the sculptures at the Art Gallery of Guelph did not have any information plaques, since it allowed me to open my mind to all of the possible interpretations of any given sculpture.

I think it’s interesting that you consider beauty from the subjective perspective, do you believe it can also be objective or solely subjective? Obviously, there is no wrong answer as the concept of beauty is primarily philosophical. Do you think you link nature to Van Gogh’s Starry Night because you inherently find beauty in the natural world? 

Subjective Natural Beauty

I think everyone that wants to pursue a role as an interpreter (nature or historical) has a duty to explore their environment around them through different mediums, and one of these is art. As someone who views art I think you have the right to interpret it however you want. You don’t have to spend hours analyzing it, but you should at least reflect on it and think of what it make you think of and how it makes you feel. To take this a step further you should think of how others might view this art piece and take that into account of your assessment of the art.

Using these skills of having a conversation about art is very useful when discussing the interpretation about nature through art. You are able to think of how your audience will view art and nature while discussing it and take into account what aspects of it to discuss and what aspects not to discuss. You don’t need to have formal training in how to interpret art, you just need to able to critically think about how you feel about it and what it means to other people.

For example, I’ve mentioned I’ve reblogged a bunch of Van Gogh’s art because he is one of my favourite artists. I’ve also mentioned in past blog posts that in his “Starry Night” I see a flowing stream through the night sky. This reminds me that the world is so much bigger than ourselves and that there is a constant flow and ebb stitched into the world.

To me, “Sunflowers” reminds me that something that is to be perceived as beautiful and happy by the world can also look dark, twisted and not perfect in appearance. Even though the sunflowers have this darker appearance, they are still able to appreciated by some people.

What I am describing is the personal nature of beauty in a person’s eyes. I find certain things beautiful because of the values and beliefs I hold up, whereas another person may not find something as beautiful. This tie’s into the reading of “The Gift of Beauty”. The author states that beauty is too subjective and cannot be understood universally because, simply put, it’s different to everyone.

When attending the Art Gallery of Guelph in our lab, it was very interesting to see that the Sculpture Park didn’t have any metal information plaques on the sculpture. This shows that the artists really wanted everyone to experience the beauty of the art for themselves and keep people’s personal opinions completely unbiased.

As a nature interpreter we have the skills to open people’s eyes to the world around us and we must do so using all forms of media, art included.

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The beauty of nature

I’m sure everyone has heard that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ or something of that nature, but what truly is beauty? The fundamental issue about the perception of beauty is whether beauty is subjective, based on the perspective of the beholder, or objective, based on the features of the thing in question. Personally, I think beauty is a bit of both, such that the feature that makes something beautiful is subjective to each observer, like there is a feature that makes something beautiful but which feature that is depends on the perspective of the observer. I find that David Hume stated the concept of beauty quite elegantly when he said that, “Beauty is no quality in things themselves: It exists merely in the mind which contemplates them; and each mind perceives a different beauty. One person may even perceive deformity, where another is sensible of beauty; and every individual ought to acquiesce in their own sentiment, without pretending to regulate those of others” (Hume, 1757). While Hume’s perspective is more on the subjective realm of the philosophy of beauty, his idea that others see different qualities of something as beautiful or not is pretty accurate.

A print of Tom Thomson’s Northern Lights (c.1917) that hangs on my bedroom wall

The Gifts of Interpretation mentions that “Nothing in nature can be ugly”, and I challenge this quote. Someone may find one aspect of nature ugly, while another person finds that same aspect beautiful, but I think that suggesting that nothing in nature can be ugly is a bit naive in this regard. For whom is to say that one’s perspective of something is greater than another’s? This is where I believe that beauty is subjective because two people can look at the same image and take away completely different perspectives.

A quick sketch of wild carrot (Daucus carota) in my field journal

Art often involves the beauty of the natural world, I mean look at Claude Monet’s Bridge Over a Pond of Water Lilies (c.1899) or Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night Over the Rhône (c.1888), these two artists have captured the essence of the natural world so wonderfully. The question of who am I to interpret nature through art boils down to for whom else is the natural world so beautiful? If nature was not beautiful, would it still be the muse for many artists? One need not be an artist to have the ability to interpret nature through art, all one needs is the ability to perceive. 

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First off, your music taste is pretty great!

I really enjoy how you relate certain songs to certain places or activities, I also do the same thing. I would say that a majority of my time is spent listening to music (I’m currently listening to some tunes on Spotify as I type this response), but I never think to listen to music when I’m in nature. Maybe it’s to give myself a break from music or maybe because nature is music in itself. I love listening to the dawn chorus of the birds and the wind blowing through the trees as I walk through a forest. Maybe it’s also because I’m a birder, so I’m constantly listening for a new bird.

To answer your question, I guess music would inhibit my natural connection, but it could also improve it under the right conditions. If I were to listen to some music in nature, I’d probably play some Eddie Vedder or Bahamas, maybe Jack Johnson. Do you ever listen to any of Guelph’s local bands? One of my friends is in this band called Drunk at the Library, and I really enjoy their music! 

Music junkies, hello!

This time I am going to try something new, and it may be a stretch!  On another day, I would write about my photography, my thoughts and feelings about using a forest as a form of healing, or the upcoming travel opportunities that I am looking forward to. Time to challenge myself in looking at something that may not totally link to nature interpretation! I am looking forward to hearing your thoughts about this, music junkies of ENVS*3000.

Looking at another classmate’s post about music, and another about the ‘age of information’ in social media, I thought to myself, why does nature have to be about disconnection? Don’t get me wrong, I am one of those people who go out into nature to relieve myself of the external pressures that we may face: school, work, deadlines, deadlines, deadlines. Often, I find myself leaving my phone and home and taking my camera with me. However, as we are increasingly exposed to images, news, content, tips and tricks, art and music… what is stopping us from improving our connection with nature with these new tools? 

Bon Iver - Holocene. This song was created for the album, ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’. Justin Vernon wrote this entire album living alone in his father’s remote hunting cabin in Wisconsin, living on the land. He hoped to recreate his music in a way that connected more with love, mediocrity and nature. You can hear the passion in his voice as he sings ‘At once I knew, I was not magnificent’. 

One way that I connect music to nature is by linking experiences with certain songs or albums. ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’ is an album that brings me back to my trip to Iceland. As we drove across the countryside on long winding roads, between tall mountains and glistening waterfalls, I listened to this album. Now, when I hear the soft guitar and the strange lyrical tunes, I can still feel the wonder I was experiencing in a new country, a country where it seemed as though isolation was serenity for most people. Listening to music in nature can break down those memory blocks in your mind and create lasting experiences, and open your mind to new feelings in places you have never been before.

Rusted Root - Send Me On My Way. Yes, this is the song from Ice Age! But, it is also a great companion to being outside, as it creates the feeling of adventure, learning and excitement.

Send Me On My Way is my go-to song for when I am going on an adventure! The penny-whistle tunes and happy beat gives me the joy and excitement to start something new. Songs like this are motivation: they say ‘Hey, you have been sitting for too long, how about going outside and experiencing something new?’. Listening to upbeat tunes can make an experience in nature feel less like a meditation (which may not be everyone’s thing) and more like a fun, amiable outing. How can you not go on a journey when listening to a song like this? Also check out this song by Eddie Vedder, who created the song to ‘Into the Wild’, a movie about a student giving up all that he has to go live in the wilderness (pretty accurate for this course, I must say).

Fleet Foxes - Blue Ridge Mountains. A modern indie-folk group that bases their music off of the world around them, creating songs that bring about curiosity, observation and appreciation for little things.

There are lyrics out there that are so beautifully written about nature, songs that parallel sounds of nature in their instrumentation and songs that even feature sounds directly taken from forests, streams, and animals. There are countless ways to weave nature into art and music. When you start to realize that the sounds in your music are representative of the sounds in nature (ex. fleeting folk guitar representative of trickling water in a riverbed), you will start noticing the smaller details in nature. Your sense of sight becomes paired with your sense of hearing, and you create a connection to something that once wasn’t there before.

I am curious to see what people think about this. Does music inhibit, or improve natural connection? What would you listen to in nature to make your connection greater? How does music make you feel about the world around us? 

P.S. Shoot me some cool music, and I will be your best friend.

[jdenvs3000-2018-blog]

getting lit-erary

As I sit here staring at my laptop figuring out what to write, I keep coming back to some advice I received from a friend today: just write a bunch of stuff down for 15 minutes straight and you’ll find something worth writing about. So, I did just that, and I decided to write about writing (kind of ironic, isn’t it?). Now to be warned, I’m no literary genius; in fact, I’ve never taken an English class outside of high school, so take my perspective with a huge grain of salt. If you folks are anything like me, you enjoy reading from the ‘nature’ section of any bookstore or library, and I figured I would share some of my favourite pieces of literature from this realm. 

My all-time favourite is Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer (I know, how original), partly because I’ve always wanted to live as a vagabond but also because Chris McCandless (Alexander Supertramp) seemed so in tune with his self and nature. This novel really resonated with me, especially when I first read it in high school, simply because I truly understood Chris’s perspective. For those of you who know me (if you don’t, check out my about or talk to me!), you know I grew up in a small town and during my time in high school, I always felt somewhat out of place. Despite living in rural Ontario, none of my peers seemed interested in anything that I was, no one enjoyed backpacking or spending time outdoors the way that I did. Until I came to Guelph, I had lost hope in ever finding friends with the same passions as me, and I started to realize that I was no longer alone and that my idea of society had changed. 

My sister and I’s backpacks at our campsite at Guskewau Lake in Algonquin Park (2015)

Another great novel is Walden by Henry David Thoreau (a classic). Walden really opened my eyes up to the concept of materialism and consumerism, and I realized that neither of these had much influence on my life. I live an environmentally conscious lifestyle, which entails me making a lot of my own things (I do a lot of fermenting, gardening, and sewing) and buying a lot of materials used. My favourite quote from Walden is “Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Turn the old; return to them. Things do not change; we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts…Superfluous wealth can buy superfluities only. Money is not required to buy one necessary of the soul.” This is a very insightful quote, and I like to think that I live by it a majority of the time.

The last piece of literature I want to share with you is one that really has nothing to do with nature at all, but means a deal to me because I stumbled upon this quote while hiking. I used to work in Algonquin Provincial Park, and one day in the summer of 2016, I decided to venture to the Mowat cemetery in search of the original grave site of Tom Thomson. Beside his old burial site was a fenced area with a giant white birch tree in it (seriously, this is the biggest birch tree I’ve ever seen) and a slab of rock with some engravings. Being curious, I hopped the fence and took a peek at this stone. It ended up being the tombstone of James Watson, who passed away at 21 years old on his first day working at Gilmour Lumber Company. The tombstone read “Remember comrades when passing by, as you are now so once was I, as I am now so you shall be, prepare thyself to follow me.” Some may find this eery, but I found it incredibly humbling, and I wish I could find the photo I took of it to share with you folks. Any time I see a big birch tree, I always think of this quote and the day that I read it.

Former burial site of Tom Thomson at the Mowat cemetery (2016)

Hopefully some of you will read these novels, if you haven’t already or re-read them if you have, and take away your own insights. Also, if anyone has any novel recommendations (of any genre), I would love to hear them!