A Learning Experience

My attitudes about nature has evolved during this class adventure. I knew that the planet was in trouble, but I thought that no one was really doing anything about it. I chose to not think about the scary statistics, but this class made me look at them. I didn’t think that I was doing much to help “save” the environment but when I took this class all of the suggestions made to help, were stuff I had already been doing. I try to not use plastic bags at the grocery store. I mainly buy fresh, organic foods. I buy cage free and non-antibiotic eggs and chicken. I use organic soaps and cleaners around the house. I have a Brita filter to cut back on plastic bottle use. I also work on a farm all summer and sell fresh food at a local supermarket. I was surprised to see that things I thought were normal were actually helping. Although there is so much bad in the books we read, there was also some good. I didn’t know how many environmentally friendly things are going on in the world. Scotland is installing underwater wheels to create power. In Europe they are recycling trash to create power and will actually buy trash from other countries! There is also an icebox full of all of the world’s plant seeds and DNA from animals, in case they go extinct. Those types of stories are what gives me hope for the future. I discovered so many insightful people through the course of this semester. I found Wendell Berry through his enticing poems and the interview we watched in class. Berry used wisdom and words to outline his points. I found Bill Bryson through his book, “A Walk in the Woods.” Bill embedded humor and statistics into his adventurous storyline to capture my attention.  I found Tom Springer through his book, “Looking for Hickories” as well as his visit to our class. Last, but not least, I found Barbra Kingsolver through the book, “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle,” and the interview we watched of her. Barbra’s book captured me with the recipes and short data driven passages.

 

I learned a lot about myself as a writer this year. For starters I seem to have a problem with sentence fragments. Which I am probably using them as I write this, but I am working on it. Anyways, I love using quotes to begin my papers because I think they are both inviting and intriguing. The thing about quotes is that you can use them in any type of paper; whether it is as formal as a research essay, or as laid back as a blog. I have received positive feedback when using quotes and I plan to continue using them.  Another thing I have started doing is not being afraid to use semicolons. I have always been afraid to use them, and now, I have been using them a lot. Through our poetry essay, I have learned how to quote poetry, and use a block quote. Both the poem and research essay have allowed me to practice my transitions into quotes and between paragraphs. I was also introduced to the two part title. I think they make the paper look and sound a hundred times better! I think it is safe to say that I have learned many useful tips, and tricks about writing.

 

I think that blogging has made me reflect on my experiences with nature. I have always considered myself to be very fond of nature. I love being outside and spend most of my time there, but I don’t usually reflect on those experiences. I think it has been a pretty positive experience so far, especially because I am writing about something I love, nature.  I have always not been afraid to share my work but I was a little intimidated having experienced bloggers in my class. I still put my work up with pride and hoped for the best. I have never blogged before so it was a learning experience. I now know how to create and manage a blog if I want to do so in the future. Overall, I have learned a lot about the environment through course texts, and videos. I have learned a lot about my writing through essays and blogs, and I learned a lot about blogging through this blog experience.

 

Produce Season

           I work on the Day Farms. As you know I start off in the greenhouses for greenhouse season. Once greenhouse season is over we begin produce season. This is my absolute favorite season. All the older woman move on to other jobs because working on the farm is too physically demanding. We start by pulling up all the old plastic that was laid down last year. This particular task is always messy. The plastic is laid using a tractor and a machine that you hook the plastic roll to. So as you lay the plastic there are two shovel type devices that drag and cover the edges with dirt. We have to rip up the plastic out of the ground. It is usually heavy because it is covered with dirt, rocks, and the skeletons of old plants. Once all the plastic is pulled Mr. Day turns up the field with the tractor. He likes to say he makes the ground as soft as brown sugar. Once the felid is tilled, we lay new plastic. I start the plastic off and follow behind the machine with a shovel to cover any edges it missed. Once at the end I cut the plastic and cover the end with dirt. We go up and down and up and down and somehow we finish it all. Once all the plastic is laid we plant the baby plants and/or seeds in the rows.

During greenhouse season we planted tiny cell trays with hundreds of vegetable seeds and put them into a germinator to allow them to grow. They are now four to seven inch tall plants, and we can plant them. We hook the planter up to the back of the tractor, and fill it with water, and trays of plants. As we go up and down the rows of plastic two wheels spin with metal spikes that poke holes into the plastic and the tubes drop water into the holes. There are two seats on each side of the wheel that my fellow worker and I sit at. We then lean over and place a plant into the hole and push it in good. Someone usually follows behind and covers the hole with dirt.  

Once all sixty-six acres are planted, this usually takes weeks, we begin to hoe. We usually have a four man team and have to hoe all the weeds that begin to grow around the plants and the edge of the rows. Once the plants are huge we usually have to have one person crawl down the rows and hand weed the weeds around the plant. We hoe for weeks; the hottest weeks of the month. I lather up with sunscreen and bring a ton to drink. Then we start the fun part, picking. Mr. Day drives up and down the rows with a trailer hooked to the tractor full of bins. We collect peppers, tomatoes, cabbage, melon, eggplants, kohlrabi, Swiss chards, pickles, cucumbers, kale, and many other veggies. The veggies are then washed and packed up to go to the Waterford market. By the time this starts up it is time for me to go back to school. This was just a brief overview of what I do during farm season. We do many other small tasks during this time, like raise baby chickens. Mr. and Mrs. Day are quite the characters and I never know what to expect! So many crazy things happen on the farm, and I wish I could share them all. There is just not enough time to share so many things. All I know is, I love my job so much. 

Greenhouse Season

So, I work on a farm called, The Day Farms. It has grown to be one of my favorite places. It is the most fun job I have ever had. It is an experience that has definitely changed me in many ways. I usually start right when school ends in April. I start out in the greenhouses. There are a total of eleven greenhouses on the farm. Each greenhouse is filled with thousands of flowers. By the end of my first year working I could name fifty different types of flowers; from coleus to geraniums. One greenhouse is also full of tomato, squash, and pepper plants.  

Mr. and Mrs. Day have been going to the Waterford farmers market for over thirty years. They go every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. We have to load the truck up with racks of flowers the night before each market day. We load almost twelve racks to go to market. Each rack has five shelfs. Each shelf can hold ten, ten trays of flowers. That’s about 6,000 individual flower’s we load up for market. On special holidays they decide we need to bring another truck and that adds another six racks. Most of the greenhouse days are spent cleaning flowers, carrying trays of flowers from the back greenhouses to the front, and loading the racks. Some days it gets up to ninety degrees in the greenhouses. Mrs. Day yells out types of flowers she wants us to get and my fellow workers and I scramble around to load them. Once all the racks are loaded the greenhouses are closed to the public and the older woman go home. I stay and help load the trucks. I stand in the truck while Mr. Day sets the racks in with a forklift. I then have to wheel the fully loaded, old, creaky, racks into position in the truck. Once the trucks are loaded the neighbor boy usually wonders over. He works their too. We then gather boxes to go pick asparagus. Mr. Day puts a wooden pallet on the forklift forks and we hop on and ride over to the asparagus patch. Once at the patch we lay down on our tummies with our arms hanging off the end. Mr. Day drives over the asparagus rows and we pick as we go. It is actually pretty fun. Once we picked all the asparagus we head back and Mr. Day bunches it for market. After a twelve hour day I go home and rest until I have to get up early for market. During greenhouse season my feet ache. They are swollen and callused.

The market opens early so we have to leave the Day’s Farm at three in the morning. Once at market we have to unload the trucks and set the flowers on tables and on the ground in our assigned stall at the market. We sell all day to hundreds of customers. At around three in the afternoon we load up the trucks with any left-over flowers we didn’t sell. We usually arrive back on the farm between four and five in the afternoon. Any flowers that we didn’t sell have to be distributed[A1]  back to their designated positions in the main greenhouse. Once they are all put back we can go home. I go home and it starts all over the next week.

 

 

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It's Fall at Grand Valley

A group of girls pass by with their long jackets closed tight. Their bulky scarfs stay closely wrapped around their necks. They wear tall boots laced up, with fluffy socks protruding from the tops. As they pass, their hair dances in the autumn breeze. They hold their cell phones in their hands tight and somehow manage to make it around without ever taking their eyes off of the screen. Another group of girls comes along, with another group of similar jackets, boots, scarfs, and fluffy socks. Boys walk by in hoodies, and keep their hands in their pockets. One boy walks by with only a T-shirt and shorts. He appears to be too cool for the obvious changing of weather. It’s fall at Grand Valley.

The leaves have all changed from a dark green to shades of orange, red, yellow and brown. The sidewalks are littered with fallen leaves from the naked trees above. A gust of wind whirls tattered leaves into the air and they are barley heard as they touch back down on the ground, only to be whipped back into the air. You can hear the crunching of leaves as students hastily work their way across campus. You can see the stress of the first semester in their eyes as they push against the wind and into their classroom buildings. It’s fall at Grand Valley. 

Then there comes rain. An outbreak of rain boots emerges and those girls’ jackets turn into colorful rain coats. Instead of cell phones they hold umbrellas. They hold their umbrellas up against the wind and rain and only the lucky few remain in their intended shape. Puddles form and shoes squeak. Students run to escape the rain and take shelter wherever they can find. Hair-dos are ruined and motivation to go to class is crushed. It’s fall at Grand Valley.

Soon all will be covered in a thick blanket of snow. Large flurries will fill the sky, float around, and then cling to whatever they come into contact with. Campus will become a snow globe that an entranced child never seems to stop shaking. Heavy duty coats will replace light jackets. Clunky winter boots will make their appearance. An array of thick scarfs, gloves, and hats can be seen on anyone who is willing to compromise good looks for warmth. Rosy cheeks and sniffles will fill campus. But for now, it’s fall at Grand Valley.

Berry Wendell

Gary Snyder once said, “Nature is not a place to visit, it is home.” People today seem to think of nature as something separate from themselves. People seem to think that what they do to nature does not affect them. In reality, we are all a part of nature. Everything we do has an effect on both us and the environment around us. American poet, essayist, and novelist, Wendell Berry, has a view on nature that is quite similar to Gary Snyder’s.

I just recently discovered Wendell Berry and all his insight. He was first brought to my attention one fateful day in my class. My teacher had my classmates and I watch a video of an interview that Wendell Berry had participated in. I was quickly blown away by his powerful and riveting words about life, love, and nature. He spoke of his disgust of capitalism. He insisted that to make a living is to have enough and that you should not live at the expense of other creatures. He told his audience to learn all you can about where you are. Last but not least, he spoke of hope.

 I am going to share with you a poem I think will open your eyes to what’s going on in the world around us. The poem is titled ‘Those who use the world assuming’ from one of Wendell’s many books, Leavings Poems.

“Those who use the world assuming

their knowledge is sufficient

destroy the world. The forest

is mangled for the sale

of a few sticks, or bulldozed

into a stream and covered over

with the earth it once stood

upon. The stream turns foul,

killing the creatures that once

lived in it. Industrial humanity,

a alien species, lived by death.

In the clutter of facts, the destroyers

leave behind them one big story,

of the world and the worlds end,

that they don't know. They know

names and little stories. But the names

of everything are not everything.

The story of everything, told,

is only a little story. They don't know

the languages of birds

who pass northward, feeding

through the treetops early

in May, kept alive by knowledge

never to be said in words.

Hang down your head. This is our hope. Words emerge

from silence, the silence remains.”

Through this poem, Wendell illuminates how people have the belief that they have the right to everything and anything, and then accentuates how such a belief is destroying the world.  He is challenging the idea that we as humans should have total domination of the world around us. He addresses the environmental problems we are facing today. As well as encourages us to respect the integrity of the other than human world.

Wendell Berry’s words have been etched into my mind. If you have not heard of Wendell, I highly recommend you read some of his work. I recommend the incredible poem, ‘Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front.’ As well as the cautionary poem, ‘A Warning to My Readers.’

 

 

 

Duck Lake

I never looked forward to something so much in my life. Going up to the cabin was my absolute favorite thing in the whole wide world. The cabin sits on Duck Lake just outside of Traverse City.  My aunt and uncle own it and unfortunately we have become too busy and have not been able to go up there in years. That is why this past summer when we were camping in Traverse City and my parents told me that we were going to stop by for the day, I was ecstatic.  Driving down the road I felt my stomach tense up. It was like I was nine years old again, and we were finally arriving after a four hour car ride.  Getting out of the car it was Nostalgic. My sisters and I instantly leapt from the car and ran straight to the dock like we did every time we first arrived. The sound of the water lightly lapping onto the rocks was soothing. We ran out onto the dock with load thuds as our feet hit the wooden boards. The lake looked just the same. Just as inviting as it always had. The water was still clear right down to the bottom.  I kicked my flip flops off, plopped down, threw my legs over the edge of the dock, and dipped my feet into the water. I sat back and closed my eyes.

 This lake holds so many of my fondest childhood memories. I wanted to cry it was so overwhelming. It is where I learned to fish. Where I caught a large mouth red eyed bass and talked about it for days. Where I learned to love being pulled on a tube and get tossed around by the waves. Where I learned how to steer the paddle boat. To go left you push the knob right and to go right you push it left. Where me and my sisters spent hours on the paddleboat going in circles between our dock and the neighbors. This is the lake that I learned to kayak, and canoe on. Where my dad let us kids steer the boat around the lake for a little bit. Where no matter how irrational I knew it was, I always feared there was a shark lurking. Where we collected clam shells and zebra mussels. Where me and my sisters brought soap and shampoo in the lake and took lake baths.  This is a lake that holds a special place in my heart. I opened my eyes and looked around. I remembered the water snake that lived right by the neighbors dock and I wondered if he was still around…

"Snap"

We took the lead, Laura and I, strutting our way into the first trail the Blandford Nature Center had to offer. We moved briskly when we saw the crowd of our classmates following. It is easier to enjoy nature when you don’t have a bunch of people yacking right behind you. We set out to complete the four most appealing trails in the time we had.  This first trail was called, the Wild Life trail. A twisting and turning bridge guided us through displays of wildlife including hawks, owls, and bob cats. Laura and I gawked at each animal snapped a few pictures and then hastily moved along as the crowd was approaching fast. Lucky for us the second trail was near. We began the walk down the, West loop. It was quiet now, we had lost the crowd. This trail was filled with streams, so there was always a perfectly placed bridge we could walk over. We took it all in, the sound of a startled chipmunk who scurried over fallen leaves and disappeared into the woods. The sound of the birds chirping, and the streams flowing. Every now and then the peace was interrupted when Laura tripped over a few tree roots that had risen out of the ground. We walked on, all the way snapping pictures.  We must have walked over four or five bridges when we came to a staircase. The staircase led us to our next trail.

This third trail was called Helen Stiles, It was the shortest trail, but the one we spent the most time in. As we descended down the path we came to a frog pond. We were like kids in a candy shop. I could not believe the amount of frogs that were living in the pond. We got down on our bellies so we could get a closer look.  As we lowered ourselves we could hear the plop of frogs who were startled and retreated into the water. We could now see all the frogs in all of their hiding places. Each frog was unique in size and coloring. Two little eyes and a nose popped out of the water and stared at me. We snapped picture after picture wishing our cameras could capture what we were seeing. After a good amount of time we figured we better move on before we run out of time. We walked until we came across our final trail. The Blue Heron trail. We had picked this trail because the map showed it had water. We wanted to go where water was. We started down the trail.  The trees bowed over the trail and made it look like we were walking through a tunnel. More pictures were snapped. It wasn’t long when we came across and observational building. We hurried up the stairs as fast as we could and looked over. There was a dock that lead you out into the middle of a marsh. We immediately took off down the stairs because we needed to get to that bridge. We got to the dock and began walking down it. The water was covered in a layer of green algae. The dock swayed side to side as we made our way to the end, breaking cracks into the algae cover where dark water shown through. We were out of the woods now in the middle of an open marsh. We quickly got a reminder of just how strong the sun was that day. We snapped more pictures and retreated back into the woods to find our way to where we started. It was no Appalachian Trail like Bill Bryson explains in his novel, A Walk in the Woods. But it was quite the escape from room 2146 in AuSable Hall.