Nature Connection: A Change Of View

Here on Cape Cod, we are surrounded by the sea. We shake sand out of our shoes on a regular basis, and the calls of the gulls and horns of the island ferries punctuate our days. Our trees are low, scraggly and wind blown, and our marshes are salty and ripe with peaty smells. We watch for the herring to arrive, the ospreys and plovers to nest and the beach plum to bloom as signals that spring is finally here.

Traveling off Cape reminds us that we live in a very particular, specific landscape. In other places there are wide rivers, mountains, valleys and much taller trees.

We have just returned from a meandering road trip to South Carolina where we visited our grandson at college. It was spring there and the scent of jasmine filled the air. Wild plum and pear trees were in full bloom, as were the azaleas, daffodils and camelias. Trees that were in bud on our drive down were leafing out on our return trip. It was lovely but short lived. By the time we hit Pennsylvania on our way back, spring had retreated, but hopefully not for long.

Getting out of our own place and going somewhere unfamiliar is always a good way to open our minds and our hearts. We spent time in areas that were obviously affluent but also drove through many that were obviously not. We saw people of all shades of colors, all ages, and with varied agendas. We saw rainbow flags and flags honoring law enforcement. We saw lots of cattle and lots of oil and gas trucks. 

We visited Congaree National Park, about an hour south of Columbia, S.C., which was so dry from a long-standing drought that what should have been swamp was dry as a bone. That didn’t stop the spring songs of the many birds or the little lizards and skinks we saw, but the waterbirds and alligators had left for wetter areas.

At a time when our national parks are being threatened, it was encouraging to see the large parking lot already full by mid-morning and many families enjoying their walks and the large and wonderful visitor center.

A state museum in Columbia grappled with a difficult history in ways that were both informative and broadly presented, admitting the past but looking forward to a more inclusive future for all. In a time when so many are screaming about DEI, perhaps they should visit a place like this that is acknowledging a difficult history and making its own community a more aware, accepting place. In the end, isn’t that what we all really want, to be included, acknowledged, perhaps even forgiven for the behavior of our ancestors?

Like everywhere else, the south is dealing with a constant intrusion of commerce, construction, and drilling on its open lands. Wildlife is being chased out and habitats are being destroyed on a daily basis. Massive highways crisscross the land, trucks carrying goods barrel up and down the hills at dizzying speeds, and hotel and restaurant billboards dot the land. Farms are being sold off and divided into developments with nary a tree, and once off the main drags, signs of serious poverty are impossible to ignore.

It is easy to forget the rest of the world living here in our rather idyllic spot on the Cape. While the world rages on over the bridge, we can walk on the beach or in the woods, forgetting for the moment all that weighs on us. We can celebrate the return of the ospreys, both their almost miraculous survival and resurgence and their seasonal arrival in spring.

Settling back into our rainy, cold spring weather has been a reminder that each of us across the world experiences that world in a different way. We left for the north the morning of the day the tornadoes began their devastating spree. We were east of the predictions, but we kept an eye on the weather nonetheless. 

As I watch the news of the flooding in Tennessee, I can’t help but think of the tiny town we drove through there in a valley next to a river that was only yards away from many of the homes and businesses. These homes were basically shacks, the businesses cobbled together from old garages and barns, the signs hand painted on the sides of the buildings. The gas station was also the grocery store, the general store, the liquor store and the coffee shop. It is too easy to imagine it being flooded this past weekend. That river was already angry and racing downstream when we saw it. A few miles down the road was closed due to earlier devastation, and we had to turn around and retrace our steps. It was a very real reminder of how differently we all live and the things that affect us. I hope all those people in that tiny town are OK.

It is good to enjoy our beautiful place. We know it isn’t perfect. No place is. As humans we have a chance to do our best to help others but first we have to acknowledge that others need help. It is fine to concentrate on saving the birds, fish, animals and trees but we must remember that many people are living very close to the edge. We need to find a way to work together to assure all have safe and decent places to live, that there is enough food and water for all, human and otherwise.

A cardinal is gathering nesting material in my yard as I write. I pretend not to notice where it is building its nest. It is safe here, at least for now. Let’s be kind and work for the safety of all. Take a page out of nature’s book, and help provide a safety net for those that need it.