Thursday, December 4, 2014

Nature Play: The Source of Life’s Spiritual Revelations

                            

             As I walk toward the tree line, I feel my pulse starting to slow. My eyes wander, my awareness heightening, as a peaceful feeling envelopes me. The loblolly pines are stretching their limbs out to me, welcoming me into their strong embrace, while simultaneously reaching towards the sky. Their treetops are swaying in such a subtle way, that it almost seems as if they are pulsating in time with my own heart. There’s no wind blowing, which makes me wonder, just for a millisecond, if they too are alive. How else could they sway with such grace, regardless of lack of breeze? I wonder if they sense me approaching, aware of my search for refuge in their understory. I wonder why it’s so quiet, the stillness in the air bringing me to think I’m the only one here. But I know I’m not. There are others watching me, which brings me a great, unexplainable comfort. I am simply another living being enjoying this living experience, right here, right now.

  I look up high into the tree tops, my senses sparked by a repetitive hollow tapping. I wonder what it is. Perched there, about midway up the pine’s solid trunk, is a Downy Woodpecker pecking its way into and through the wood in search of what will be dinner. I watch her from afar, feeling my face slowly curl into a smile. Tap tap tap….tap tap tap. What a simple way to live. I wonder if I could live more so in that fashion.
            I have been revisiting the same drainage pond for the past few months, and what I have observed is quite remarkable. This small pond, nestled in the back of an apartment complex not far from the campus of Salisbury University, is a hidden treasure to those who know where to look, or should I say, to those who choose to look. That’s something that brings me great concern, the lack of wonder people perceive of the natural world while living within the human one. There have been a few others who have wondered about this spot, wondered about what nature can offer them. I see remnants of their curiosity in the bushes- old, discarded beer cans dully shining against an evergreen blanket of pine needles, crumpled, decaying food packaging lining the water’s edge.  A pile of charred bonfire logs sits quietly a few feet from the pond. I can almost envision the fire now which must have brought warmth and laughter to a group of friends seeking comfort under the canopy of trees surrounding the pond. There’s something about the remnants of past experiences other people have had near this pond that brings about a ghostly presence to it as it sits now.
            The interweaving of what humans deem enjoyable, and what nature deems natural, intersect here at this place. But for the most part, humans seem to be missing a big piece of the puzzle, and come to visit for purposes that are far from attentive to nature’s creatures and processes. I see that people are desperately seeking to have nature in their lives, but aren’t sure how to befriend her. What I have seen here at this drainage pond behind this apartment complex is that people come outside to “do” something. They come to drink with their friends or have their lunch, and are looking for an open and free area to do so. Sadly they then discard their waste in the water, toss their trash into the bushes, and seem to disregard the shelter and comfort that the outdoors has given them, with no benefit to its self. The people who come here have displayed and expressed that they view nature as a one sided relationship, in that when coming here, to her, they show little respect to how they treat their environment, and still expect purity, fostering, and enjoyment in return. Littering doesn’t harm humans, and their only purpose in coming here to this pond is to partake in activities that only present benefits for them, a purpose. In fact, arguably we humans should try out at least from time to time not having a purpose at all in mind when choosing to step outside into nature. As we grow into adults, it is hard to imagine ourselves running, skipping, or jumping through leaves, or chasing each other around through trails in the woods. These activities involve no purpose, only to simply enjoy being outside and interacting with nature. We don’t go outside to “play” anymore; because we have other matters to tend to, other “humanly” matters for lack of a better term. But what exactly does it mean to play in nature? Playing is an enjoyable, purposeless, carefree act in which humans interact with their surrounding environment, improving their mental health overall. You don’t need to bring anything with you, or leave anything behind. With nature play, we humans can learn valuable lessons, encompassing ideas about simplicity of life, affirmation of existence, and an acknowledgment of relationships within one’s life. All you need to do is observe.
            It may seem that “doing nothing” in nature is hard at first, but trust me when I say that it is actually quite easy. When I say “do nothing”, I simply mean to bring only your thoughts when you step outside. Nature offers an escape from everyday life and is a free form of therapy for your mental health. Your thoughts can be eased, your emotions can be calmed, and your stress levels can be lifted away when you just let yourself “be” in nature. The type of “play” I am talking about is a mental kind of playing, letting your thoughts interact directly with what is living outside. There is nothing more reaffirming and comforting than acknowledging that you too, are alive. We bog ourselves down with countless responsibilities, all created by the human race, allowing stress to eat away at our serenity, over matters that seem quite pointless. When you step outside, you allow yourself to return to your roots and realize that your life is worth living. The beauty of nature is the best kind of therapy there is, because it is the many mysteries which occur within it that make you question what is really important.
            To envision our lives without a purpose is quite a difficult task, however, if you were to walk in the shoes of a robin, or a bald eagle, it’s much easier to imagine. Granted, birds don’t wear shoes, but the point here is that animals’ minds aren’t eaten away with the same responsibilities that humans plague themselves with every single day. We are always searching relentlessly for something to do, somewhere to be, or someone to please, and all of this searching becomes quite exhausting. As children, we are still blinded by innocence and are naïve to what the world has in store for us. That is why it is so easy for children to run outside with such cheerful grace accompanied by freedom filling up their hearts with happiness. Children and nature function under very similar characteristics. They embrace the pure rational reality of what nature is: a stress free, self-sustaining environment that doesn’t require any responsibility. I see the same kind of freedom carrying flocks of Canadian Geese south each winter, with icy cool wind propelling them forward beneath their wings calling for zero effort whatsoever. I see the same kind of curiosity in the squirrels scurrying across the forest floor, stopping to prop themselves up and stare at me in wonder. I see the same kind of carefree, relaxed demeanor the Bald Eagle has when coasting above the landscape in the setting sun in search of food.
            Nature does not strive to accomplish anything other than humbly living; it makes its way through life with pure simplicity. Children prefer things uncomplicated, as does nature. So when I make the decision to drop my obligations, step outside, and let nature have its way with me, I am choosing to embrace my inner child. Playing is innocence without a purpose, and when I am exploring the wilderness, I am not looking to accomplish anything. I am merely there to feel and experience the little wonders that nature is waiting to reveal. Playing outside helps ignite a lost sense of wonder inside each one of us, a sense of wonder that gets lost among the mundane buzz of day to day duties.
            Along with simplicity, nature has many more lessons to teach us about our life here on the planet, and that is affirmation of existence. No one can ever truly give an answer to the questions: Where do we come from? What is the reason for my life? Why does it seem so difficult at times? Some have found the answers through things like religion or maybe even science, but these are all based on speculation or biological evidence that provides solid facts. However, some things don’t need to have clear concrete answers, rather simply acknowledging the complexity is good enough. When I am sitting under the canopy of the loblolly pines, I am bewildered at how we are both alive. I don’t ask myself what is making this single tree live, because I could easily prove that with scientific data on the biological makeup of the tree, information about cellular respiration, or even go into detail about its root systems and its relationship with the soil, which would all suffice in answering that question. What I do instead, is simply accept that it is alive, and this offers me profound affirmation to my own life. I don’t need to know why I am living, where I come from, or understand the complexity of my existence, all I need to know is that I have life, and it is important as well as worth living- which provides clarity and comfort.
            After spending time in nature, I am able to take home with me valuable lessons that I’ve learned, and am able to apply them to my own life. What does our life consist of? Well, among many things such as schedules and plans for the future, we base our whole existence around relationships with others. Human relationships help us grow as individuals, and we find comfort in relating to and trusting others. In fact, without healthy relationships, we tend to suffer from loneliness and question our purpose in life, feeling like we are alone inside our own heads. Don’t get me wrong, some people are easily able to survive without others, and would actually prefer it that way. For the most part though,  it is through interactions with other like-minded beings that brings us happiness, fulfillment, support, and strength to survive this crazy ride we call life. When I come here to this drainage pond, I am able to reflect on this idea of relationships quite easily. I see a similar scenario of dependence among beings that live within this ecosystem. Flocks of Carolina Wrens and Chickadees stick together, offering each other strength in numbers from predators and combined effort in finding food to forage on. Mallard and Wood Ducks come together in unison to take on a long journey together when migrating south for the winter. Even the relationship between predator and prey is an important one; the Osprey depends upon the chipmunk to provide herself with nutrients to survive, and appreciates the chipmunk’s existence in return. Although I am heavily personifying all of these animal affairs and it is close to impossible to prove whether or not the Osprey yells out to the chipmunk, “Hey, thanks for the lunch!” as she swoops down and to execute him, I still would like to think that there is an unspoken appreciation between them. The interworking of ecosystems and the intricacies of the food web are all dependent upon one thing: relationships between beings. By observing the relationships found in nature, I find it easier to be thankful for the relationships I have in my own life. I understand that without them, I would struggle for survival.
            Think about what children love most: to play and to laugh. Laughter is something in which eases all pain and discomfort in ourselves. It brings us back to our sanity and grounds us with a warming embrace. When someone you love is crying, what do you try to do for them? You try to make them laugh with your silliness, poke fun at how worse off  it could be, and remind them to be thankful for the "little things" in life, the simplicity. Never lose that spark in which your inner child lives. We must learn to laugh and to play and love life light-heartedly, or else we won't get out alive. Laugh at the little things in life and keep it simple because they are what keep us sane.   
            The bare necessities that keep you happy in your life always seem to get drowned out by the things that make you unhappy. “Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves, that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim." Apply what nature has to teach you to your everyday life, and then return to her; tell her how it went. Affirming her life, in which reaffirms your own life is like looking into the mirror of reciprocation. Looking for the repetition, synchrocities and the reoccurring themes behind everything, including the people you meet and the relationships you make, is a playful way to carry out your days.
       Humans have made a reality in which nature is deemed as that which only sustains our life, only used for our good. It's not a secret, it's common sense. Nature is alive too, she just doesn't "speak" back, but sure does have a lot to say. Humans need to play in nature to survive, to get out there and observe the observable reality in which we are all a part of: this planet. Making the decision to step outside of our man made caves, which shields us like an armory from the outside world, try going out there and seeing what the real stuff is like. The wood in which your house was constructed was once alive; probably once a home to another creature. The sheets you sleep in every night, the clothes you wear on your back and the food sitting in your fridge have all been derived from this Earth.
            Playing is supposed to be fun, and that's exactly what it is, because you learn something new every single time. A never-ending list of questions swarm my mind when I'm out exploring the wilderness. Which direction the pine needles will fall onto my shoes is unpredictable, yet I anticipate the outcome. I wonder where the flock of snow geese just flew in from....and how many arm flaps they have taken. Are their arms tired? They must be tired....Does Indian corn always grow the colors of red, orange, and yellow? They look like a sea of fire, stretched out across the corn field. A good friend of mine and I decided to play a game one day, the two simple rules being: I catch the grasshoppers and she took the pictures. Catching the grasshoppers was quite an experience. It's like they sensed me approaching them from the same exact distance each and every time. You could not rush the approach, or force the attack, or else they would fly away from your grasp in the blink of an eye. It is when you approached the grasshopper softly, then did it let you hold it for a close up and intriguing picture. Staring at the grasshopper up close and in detail, I was looking at it (is it an it?) right in the eyes and couldn't help but wonder what it was thinking.
            Stay mindful, keen and attentive during every second that unfolds in your life, because it's the interactions of chance that keeps it exciting and new; the playful experiences drawn out by curiosity and wonder. Yes, research and facts can give us answers, but they can also build a wall blocking out your intrigue, to always keep searching for a deeper meaning. Simply simplify. "This tree is a tree because it's a tree" is not quite the same as "this tree is a tree because it's a living breathing plant whom shares a different kind of existence in my good company." Search for the deeper meaning. There's always an underlying reason for everything in life that hides just beneath the surface, and that’s what playing can do, it can reveal these synchrocites, reoccurrences, and hidden reasons to your life, just like a game of hide and go seek. We hide from our biggest fears and seek for refuge in each other, yet if we just have a playful mindset on a regular basis, we can start to take notice the games life seems to play with us. Have you ever wondered why irony has hit you so hard before that it seems too odd to be just a coincidence? This is life playing a joke on you, trying to shake you awake and make you look around at your surroundings.

Nature play allows us to see three primary and important things within out life, and those are simplicity, affirmation of existence, and acknowledgement of relationships.  All three of these things are absolute necessities to living a quality life.  There is no purer place to be reminded of these three elements, which is why spending time outside, “playing” is key to not only our mental health, but our overall health.  We as adults must understand this reality and embrace it, or we will ultimately lose touch with our most pure origins and root of creation.
- Carrie Zaloga


            
            

Pondtopia



            A retention pond hardly seems the place to begin a natural history.  These artificial bodies of water, constructed by land developers to keep rainwater from flooding any nearby basement are not the first place people would congregate to observe the living world. And yet here I am. Eyeballing the waters of a exactly this sort of pond when riding the bus home one day, I saw it crammed with a variety of plants and mallard ducks. All too often humans passing by- people just ignore the pond’s beauty and throw the soda can they were drinking straight into it without thinking twice about it. Litterers just see this retention pond as the garbage dump of nature. Since, people already see trash strewn all over the banks and in the ponds water they contribute too by throwing their trash in there as well. This truly makes me agitated and livid because this disrupts the ecosystem that currently resides in these waters. For example, if a Canadian goose or mallard duck see one of these pieces of trash which as foreign object to them, these birds my ingest these plastics or trash particles. All of this could simply cause their lives to end because of the carelessness of humans not respecting nature and not properly disposing of their trash.
 I also believe that this pond needs a turbidity and Ph test to see what kind of pollutants are actually in this water from all the runoff that drains into it. All of the pollutants that are in this pond may in the long run really affect the life of all the species living in this particular area.  Then, that’s when I decided that this would be my spot to get to know and become one with.

A retention pond is a manmade structure whose purpose is to keep excess water from flooding areas being used by humans when it rains. The ponds are created for parking lots and housing developments, “Retention ponds capture diverted storm water runoff from these surfaces.” (www.usouthal.edu)  The ponds provide two key benefits. First, they hold the runoff before freeing it into larger bodies of water nearby. They let go of the water at the flow rates and frequencies similar to those that occurred under natural conditions. The flood volume detained in a retaining pond decreases the stress on downstream storm water systems.  The second use of the retaining ponds is that they offer pollutant extraction through settling and biological uptake. (www.usouthal.edu) This is exactly what the retention pond behind my apartment complex is doing. When the weather gets rainy or stormy all the water flows through the parking lot and drains into the retention pond to stop all the major flooding that would occur if the pond wasn’t there. It does put a damper on this irreplaceable place that all the run off pours into this pond which harms the species and pollutes the water, but it’s going to happen anyway.
            The first time I walked over to my retention pond it was an enjoyable warm day. I sat down and immediately noticed this place is actually really cool. This pond had a very interesting and unique vibes around it. Everything was lively and made me feel more connected with nature in a way that I have never been before. Sitting or walking around this area week after week gave me more and more love for this place. A biophilic bond was created. As Edward O. Wilson puts it, “There is an instinctive bond between human beings and other living systems.”

There was so much life everywhere I looked. The Southern Leopard frog, for example.    As I stood up again and took a single step, the Southern Leopard Frog (Rana sphenocephala) just hopped right into the water and made a little croak that sounded like a cat’s meow. Relying on its sensitivity to touch as much as its ability to hear, the frog had felt my approaching feet through the ground. The frog is striking in appearance: “Large and slender, grows up to 5 inches long. Has green and brown with dark black spots on their sides. Leopard frogs have light-colored dorsolateral ridges (raised lines on their backs). They also have a light stripe along their jaw, nocturnal, and can leap several feet at a time.” (www.fcps.edu) Their leaping skills are so effective that I can never catch one. They are not only quick, but also leap a great distance into the water. I have made it a goal that I will catch one and finally analyze it in my own hands. I would then finally be able to say that I connected to this frog, having to get close enough to observe in detail this magnificent cold blooded species.

The cattails (Typha angustifolia) looked so beautiful just swaying in the breeze. “Usually many plants are grouped together. They grow to about nine feet long, with unbranched, stiff stems with sword-like leaves. The leaves of the narrow variety are thinner. The plant has a flower spike about six to 12 inches long which is made up of tiny, closely packed, dark brown flowers.” (Freer) Cattails provide more than homes to species. They can also provide people with food. For example, Nature writer Euell Gibbons has called cattails "the supermarket of the swamps.” (Freer) It is known that people who are around cattails would never starve since they are edible and a good source of nutrients for humans. Plus, this species can be used to make furniture or many other items that can be used on a daily basis. This plant is very widespread and can do so many more things, than just sit in a pond.
The cattail was certainly my favorite and intrigued me the most out of any species in this pond. This first time I saw one I picked it and observed everything about it. I loved touching its spongey outside and then when I broke open the cattail all I saw was big clumps of fluff. The seeds that exploded out of the cattails were carried into the wind like tiny miniature clouds drifting away. This plant species is just so unique and delicate, which just provides so much. I personally believe that the cattail was the keystone species of my pond. Every species is somehow affected or uses the cattails in some type of way. Without the cattails present there would be a missing link in this small embodiment of water. I highly enjoyed watching this plant develop over the observations weeks by discovering its uses. Plus, I loved seeing these cattails in different forms, such as in its regular known form, as seeds, and as a huge fluffy explosion of natural beauty.
Looking down into the water I see Water Striders (Gerris remigis) dancing on the surface like little ballerinas. These are very special insects who can live a long time, even throughout cold winters. They tend to hide in the cattails that are everywhere in the pond and have very interesting survival skills. For example, “The short front legs of a water strider are for grabbing prey. The middle legs push the insect forward, and the hind legs steer. The shape of their legs and their light weight keep them from breaking through the surface.” (www.fcps.edu) Also, Water Striders must always keep pirouetting and twirling, so they don't become prey themselves to fish or other predators that rely on these special dancing insects for food. These insects do not have wings and are usually in bulky groups that prefer the security of overhanging trees along with shade. (www.fcps.edu) These insects that look like giant mosquitos gliding on the top of the water are also preyed upon by the southern leopard frog and bigger fish. Without these species in this pond several links in this ecosystem would be missing.  A whole section of the food chain would have been thrown. Every species offers some type of interlocking connection with all the other species nearby. Without these trophic levels residing in this pond, it would not be thriving as it is. It’s amazing that this unnatural place that began artificially has welcomed nature with open arms to come and dwell. There are so much biodiversity and living habitats for each species that live in this retention pond. Ferns, tall grasses, cattails, duckweed, various insects and amphibians can live under, and many other aquatic plants. It’s truly amazing how much life is in this pond and people just walk or drive past it every day without giving it a second glance.
When I got around to the other side of the pond I noticed that there was a lot of trash lining the banks or bottles just bobbing around in the water. But, what really set me off was the huge pile of burnt trash just sitting there. Many Canadian Geese (Branta canadensis) or Mallard ducks (Anas platyrhynchos) could potentially harm themselves by swallowing or getting entangled in this mess. It’s just so terrible and inhumane, how people can carelessly throw things away in something else’s living environment. Many of us humans have lost touch with nature that it’s crazy. People seriously need a reality check to realize there are still living things around us that have a same right to thrive in their own habitat just as humans do in theirs.

But a paradox ensues. With all of the litter that is strewn in and around this pond some species may have learned to live under these irregular items or use them as a shelter to protect them from predators. So, the bigger mammals and birds can be harmed by all of these foreign objects, but frogs or salamanders run to the litter for protection and shelter. Thus, if I move the trash to protect some species from dying, this can also disrupt habitats for other creatures. But, I still believe that if people didn’t litter this pond in the first place all the species that do rely on litter for habitats would have found natural ones and would be better off in the long run by not living among the chemical the contaminants introduced by the litter.
My overall experience in spending time here observing the living world was a success. I have gained new adventures, treasures, and knowledge by connecting to the natural world. I certainly know a lot more than I did at the start of these observations and now possess a lot more respect for places that are not instantly beautiful at first glance. Chances need to be taken to understand places and things that are living in not so appealing places. These types of places have much beauty, they just need to be discovered in the right way.
-  Catie Burkowske

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

CHASING BUTTERFLIES


American Beauty Butterfly (Vanessa virginiensis)


            We grew up with flowers,  and they grew up with us. But, they need different relationships with their surroundings in order to survive. For instance, most flowers need a relationships with insects, which is to say, their arthropod pollinator. We call this a mutual relationship, as both will benefit. The insect gets food and shelter, while the flower gets to pass on its genes and help create the next generation.
            When I was a child I was always playing outside, exploring new things and places. My aunt lives next door to me and when I was 12 she and my uncle built a greenhouse. She always loved flowers and decided to get into the business of growing and selling them. I and my sister would always love to go see what pretty things were growing at the different times of year. During the summer there would always be lots of insects in there, but due to the high heat most of them died before they could figure out how to escape. Me and my sister would love to go around and collect all of the butterflies that had died, we loved looking at their bright and wondrous colors. There were so many different kinds, colors, and shapes. I know that I was always amazed at how many different types we could find. We also found giant grasshoppers and cicadas, if the season was right. But we always went back to collecting butterflies.
            The student gardens at school has offered me a sanctuary and an opportunity to do my watching, my listening. These gardens are second nature, as while they are natural, they aren’t growing in an entirely natural way but are being managed by humans on a weekly basis. When I was here, I love to watch the butterflys, trying to get close enough to see their unique wing patterns. The two main butterfly species I saw were the American Lady ”Vanessa virginiensis” and the Cabbage White “Pieris rapae”. Both of these butterflys greatly enjoyed two main species of flowers, zinnias and cosmos.
            Gardens are a way of second nature, people plant and maintain them. While flowers are all natural, they aren’t always native to the area. In the wild, particular species of flowers tend to dominate an area, reseeding themselves with greater and greater effectiveness each season. In a garden humans like to blend species together and not let one of them simply take over. We like to mix species and colors to please our sense of beauty as we keep the beds tidy and each plant in its own place. Garden plantings aren’t in a fully natural order, but they still attract wild things such as the butterflies.
            While both of these butterfly species are found in the same garden, they prefer different flowers. Watching them flutter and float, I chased them around the garden to take even one good picture, which I never got. But in the process, I noticed that they always came back to their respective favorite pearch. The American Lady enjoyed the zinnias the best, while the White Cabbage preferred the cosmos. Both of these flowers are the hardies of all the flowers in the garden, and survived the longest into the cooler weather.
            The American Lady butterfly has a distinctive orange and black pattern on its wings with a few white spots on the front tips. During the year they have two different appearances. The first hatchlings of the year often sport larger wings with brighter orange, while the later adults are smaller and not as brightly patterned. American Ladys overwinter in the lower U.S., particularly  in Florida, and then migrate to the north during early spring time. They migrate north together but do not return south together, it is not clear why(Univ. Flordia).
            White Cabbage butterflies are a common species that almost everyone has encountered. They are nearly all white, with black tips on their front wings. Depending on its gender, each individual has ether one or two dark spots on its wings, one for males and two for females. Whites have one of the longest juvenile stages, taking a year in caterpillar form and then hibernating over winter as a chrysalis, before hatching into a adult butterfly the following spring.  Many farmers consider them to be pests due to the damage their caterpillar stage can inflict on crops, and spray pesticides to keep them off. The common person on the other hand enjoys them because they help pollinate flowers, and are pretty to watch(Painter). Although, I  must admit, they also have been chowing down on the cabbage in the garden where I was viewing them.
- Jenn Emmart

References:
"American Lady - Vanessa Virginiensis (Drury)." American Lady - Vanessa Virginiensis (Drury). University of Flordia, May 2009. 20 Nov. 2014. Website Nature, Mother. "American Lady Butterfly Dorsal View - Vanessa Virginiensis by Mother Nature." Fine Art America. Macro Photography, 11 July 2012. 01 Dec. 2014. Picture

Painter, Theresa. "Cabbage White." Cabbage White. Study of Northern Virginia Ecology, n.d. 20               Nov. 2014. Website

Slattery, Britt, Kathryn Reshetiloff, and Susan M. Zwicker. Native Plants for Wildlife Habitat and      Conservation Landscaping: Chesapeake Bay Watershed. Annapolis, MD: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, Chesapeake Bay Field Office, 2005. Print.

Wild Ones Handbook: A Voice for the Natural Landscaping Movement. Milwaukee, WI. Wild Ones-- Natural Landscapers, 1997. Print.

Stumbling into the Darkness


            The fading light of dusk is disappearing into the oncoming night, which promises to be cool and crisp. Fall has surely reached the Eastern Shore, and the scent of burning wood lingers for a moment in the air and then dissipates. Carried away by this brief visitation, my mind drifts back to those chilling nights when my grandfather would send me out to retrieve a log or two for the dying fire. I’d hurry into the darkness without coat or shoes and sprint to the wood pile, my bare feet painfully striking the cold hard ground along the way. Through the leaves and scattered bits of chopped wood, I’d shuffle around in the shadowy mass to find the largest logs to revive the fire.

            My memories ebb away, and here and now, a sliver of moon appears just as the retiring sun pulls the remaining strands of light deeper into the west.  Once a pale ghost in a blue sky, the moon now catches the sun’s light and becomes illuminated against the growing darkness. Still this thin waxing crescent does not offer much light to the dimming landscape, now growing increasingly mysterious and unfamiliar to my eyes. Perhaps, I muse, I have chosen the wrong night to walk in the dark. Surely with this sparse light to guide me, my feet will falter and quickly stumble over an unnoticed branch or stone. But this is to be expected. I am a creature of daylight and unlike nocturnal beings; I am most at home in the light.  Still, the night beckons to me, and I open the door of my grandparent’s house to see what will come of this dark invitation.
            The first sight that greets me is a porch light with a swarm of insects, fellow lovers of the light, dancing around its glowing bulb. Among them are four or five Common Idia moths, Idia aemula with their wings fluttering frantically. In blurs of light, their grey bodies brush repeatedly against the glass surface of the bulb, the contact leaving a faint clicking sound in its wake. Countless gnats also smack into the glass and leap back to do so yet again and again, orchestrating their own syncopated beat to the rhythm of insects hitting against the porch light. Two large crane flies, Tipula borealis circle around the light at a further distance, seemingly to avoid the commotion of the moths. I think, “Something must instinctively pull these creatures toward this hazy glow protruding into the darkness.”
 Porch lights, scientific research has noted, create an artificial form of illumination know as ambient illumination, which attracts insects even as it distorts their ability to navigate through the night. These creatures twirling around the incandescent bulb before me, are likely to be very confused and disoriented (Longcore and Rich 2004: 193); (Foster and Roenneberg 2008:79).  Many organisms rely on light to navigate throughout the day and are caught off guard when artificial light is introduced to their environment. Ambient illumination has shown to either attract or repel a variety of species.  Further, bright light can temporarily blind certain species. Yet other organisms can adapt to ambient illumination and use it to their advantage by foraging for food in its artificial day. Studies have shown that lunar rhythms influence the behavior of many animals and insects such as migration, cycles of birth and the ways in which members of a species communicate with one another. Since the moon is the brightest object in the night sky, it is not surprising that organisms might mistake artificial light for the full moon and adjust their internal clockwork to sync with a false lunar cycle.
            Nearby the light bulb, an enormous black and yellow garden spider, Argiope aurantia sits at the top of her web. I know she’s a female because of her size. She like many other spider kinds has chosen an opportune location in which make herself at home and weave a silken web.  And once constructed, she remains true to it, persistently repairing threads broken by the force of weather or moving objects. For this female garden spider, the center of the universe is tucked into the highest corner of the screened porch, where she is harvesting diligently an artificial swarm of creatures drawn to an artificial light. There is beauty in the interdependence between species, as the life of one being delivers sustenance and prolongs life for others. But this cycle, whether it be under natural or unnatural conditions, is dependent on death as one creature relies on the life of another to survive, for “each species, including ourselves, is a link in many chains” (Leopold 1949).  She waits patiently for one of the critters to stumble into her large round web and become an evening meal, thus continuing the cycle.
            I search through my bag to find a headlamp and pause as I hear the hoot of an owl. Perhaps this is the call of a Great Horned Owl, Bubo virginianus marking his or her territory in the woods. Arrayed with a light, I am ready to set out on the path running between the soybean fields and the edge of the woods with Jack, my little lemony beagle following close behind me. My headlamp lights the way as we walk through the open, dark field and past the black still water of the pond. Something stirs in the tall grass and jumps into the water, breaking the silence. Jack snorts and gruffs angrily at any unexpected sound that leaps from the darkness. As we approach the edge of the woods, our footsteps are no longer muffled by the grass. We move noisily over the crunching leaves that have blown into the soybean field.
            Soon the pine needles buffer the sound of the breaking leaves beneath our feet as we creep up to the dead Black Oak, Quercus velutina. I peer into the woods and struggle to step forward into the darkness. I know what I will find if I venture deep enough into the shadows of tall trees. I am only a few steps away from the thin crooked path that leads to a clearing in the heart of the woods. I have only been there once before, as a child led by my grandfather. I was never allowed to play too close to the woods as my grandparents feared a hunter’s bullet would accidentally find me. Stepping inside was always forbidden; until one year my grandfather rented out the property so that hunters would not be permitted, and we could explore it in safety. This forest was always mysterious to me and held a subtle uninviting aura, perhaps because I had convinced myself it was too dangerous. As Thoreau has put it, “there is something in the…air that feeds the spirit and inspires.”  Or in my case, deters. For these trees and shadows have always inspired wonder as well as fear in me (1862).
As I remember it, my grandfather and I walked down the path together, he whistling and I searching for the perfect walking stick. We passed tangles of American holly Ilex opaca, tall Sweet Gum Liquidambar styraciflua, Sassafras Sassafras albidum, Loblolly Pine Pinus taeda, and Mulberry Morus rubra.. After some time we reached a clearing in the woods. In the center of the openness there stood a wide sycamore tree, Platanus occidentalis. The tree was thick and tall, with branches stretching outward and low enough that someone might be able to jump up and grab hold of one. As we drew closer to the tree and noticed the mass of scribbles carved into the white speckled bark, I became uneasy. Before me were hundreds of words linked together from base to branch taken from different psalms of the Christian bible. I cannot remember which psalms and verse numbers were carved into the tree, but I remember reading the words “Jesus lives” and “blood of Christ” in bold wounds on the sycamore’s body. As I wonder yet again who did this and why, I am swept back to my eleven year old self, reminded of the mysteries that once haunted me as I walked through this woods. Was this act carried out by a group, or individual? I now wonder if they came to this place to take spiritual refuge among the trees, or had other intentions. My imagination wanders and spurs visions of people gathering in secret at the old sycamore tree, under the cover of shadows. I remember my grandfather teasing me that people once hung witches from the tree, although the meaning behind this artifact hidden in the rural outskirts of Eden, Maryland was as much of a mystery to him as it was to me. Still, I am cautious and worry about what, or rather who I may meet lingering in the darkness. 
            Jack has no qualms about entering the unknown and pulls me forward, tugging at the leash. I wonder if his confidence stems from ignorance. I am unaware of what I may find in the woods and feel I am kept in the dark in more ways than one. He must see or hear something stirring that my eyes and ears cannot pick up. The sound pulls at his curiosity and draws him inward. I marvel at my fear and his indifference, even eagerness. There is life beyond what I can see, hidden within brush and tucked inside burrows and hollow trees. I stand still and listen for any sign of movement. The heat of my breath appears and then disperses in the light of the lamp. I become uneasy and turn longingly toward the comforting glow of candles sitting in the windowsills of the house just a field away. A few moments pass and I give in to fear. Yearning for familiarity, for ease, for the world of light, I make my way back to the house. I wonder what it is that instinctively tells me to retreat but allow other animals to go forward without hesitation.
            Why am I so unsettled by land blanketed in night? After all, the night sky is the stage that holds the beauty of the heavens in the brilliance of many tiny stars. I need only look up to take in the splendor of the cosmos and lose my fear in the “perpetual presence of the sublime” (Emerson 1836). I stretch my neck back as far as it will reach, and tilt my gaze toward the sky.  For a moment my attention shifts to nothing but the gentle elegance of sparkling particles above me. Leaves crunch ahead of me, breaking my trance and I fall back into uneasiness before the dark forest, internally debating whether or not to enter. My reluctance feels primal, perhaps inherited from ancestors of long ago. Is my innate disconnect with the dark deep rooted? I am weary of the unknown and what sees me that I cannot see in turn; perhaps my caution is natural and my ache for light traces back to when early humans first commanded fire and brought vision to the night. This land familiar to me only an hour ago has now been transformed into jagged silhouettes and uninviting shadows. My sense of place is distorted. I have been uprooted from the field I walked with ease in the dusk. Like the moths lingering in the glowing aura of an incandescent bulb in the night, I too am pulled toward the light.



References Cited
Emerson, R. W. (1836). Selections from Nature.
Foster, R. G. and Roenneberg, T.
2008 Human Responses to the Geophysical Daily, Review Annual and Lunar Cycles.Current Biology 18: 784–794.

Leopold, Aldo. (1949). A Sand County Almanac: And Sketches Here and There. New York, New York: Oxford University Press. Print.

Longcore, T. and Rich, C.
2004 Ecological Light Pollution. Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment 2: 191-198

Thoreau, H. D. (1862). Walking.