In the Chisos Mountains, 9/17/21

“Life will wear you down,” I said.

Did I mean that life was a destructive force, an enemy to be resisted? Is it our fate to fight and ultimately lose? Life cannot be an enemy, because what would be left if we defeated it?

“Time will wear you down,” was my revised thought.

Things change. To be present on earth is to see gravity, erosion, and the cycles of seasons take their toll. It is to experience developmental growth but also decline, the arrival of every good thing that comes to our doorstep and, eventually, its departure.

“Life will change you,” I decided. “It will raise you up from the ground and clothe you in fragrant woodlands, but sometimes strip you bare. The rains will soften your features, or give them a newly grooved and wrinkled expression. Birds will sing in your hair, and then the music ends until a new season renews the song.” Always a new season is arriving.

(A fragment from my notebook in September of 2021 when Meghan and I were in the Big Bend working on the mindfulness book.)

What Will We Do Now?

I write about nature, about the experience of nature and the cost of losing our connection to it. What could I have to say about this new world we are about to step into and what we can do about it? This space is about “our lives” in nature, and those lives – really all lives in nature – will change with the incoming administration.

Our country and the world is enduring a time of breaking, of desecration, when the worst impulses of many people are enabled and encouraged. And yet, there are a lot of us who know better, were raised to be better, and maybe we can lessen the damage. We have to try. We’re allowed to grieve the better world that is postponed or maybe lost, but our love for this world and for each other calls us out to do what we can.

Photo by Anugrah Lohiya on Pexels.com

The first thing we can do is to support ourselves and each other. Think about what the airlines say to do first if the cabin loses oxygen: grab the mask and make sure you have the oxygen that will let you function to rescue your child or your neighbor. We can do no good if we spiral into despair or exhaustion.

We cannot support each other if we’re isolated, and we need to work on this. Our Surgeon General called loneliness a public health epidemic, and a poll from the American Psychiatric Association said that 10% of Americans report being lonely every day. An NPR report stated that, across two decades, young people aged 15-24 now had 70% less social interaction with friends. As communities, we are often fragmented and isolated, and that might be a significant factor in our sense that we are falling apart. We increasingly keep to ourselves, and sometimes that results in thinking which becomes rather paranoid, and we become less patient, understanding, and skillful when dealing with fellow humans. The phone becomes our social partner and our way of interacting with the world, but social media is no substitute for face-to-face communication. And I say that as an introvert who hates parties and large social events. Find people with whom you can really talk as well as listen. Don’t forget their importance.

Nature, of course, can play a role in our self-care. In times to come we have to remember how the woods can be a refuge and wetlands can help wash away anxiety, trauma, and anger. Just as we need connection with allies, friends, and relatives, we need connection with trees, prairies, wetlands, and wildlife.

Such places will be more threatened than ever. The incoming administration has pledged to “drill, baby, drill,” and is also interested in selling off federal land to developers for housing. Project 2025, which (despite early denials) seems to be the blueprint for the incoming administration, intends to dismantle much of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), reverse what it considered the Biden administration’s “climate fanaticism,” forbid any scientific investigations by the EPA that are not explicitly authorized by Congress, and undo any progress toward clean energy. We know that climate scientists have said that much damage has already been done and we see the fires, floods, droughts, and hurricanes all over the news. Every year without significant climate progress will result in worse damage. How bad and how soon is hard to predict, but after the election, things look much less hopeful.

The new administration wants to convert civil service positions into political appointees. People working in civil service mostly have the independence and professional expertise needed to guide the implementation of environmental (and other) regulations. You can call them “bureaucrats,” but we probably want independent professionals helping determine the safety of our water or what sort of protection is needed to save a species from extinction. That may work out better than promoting opportunists willing to say anything to show their loyalty.

There are other threats, of course, like the stated intention of rounding up millions of our neighbors and deporting them, of giving up on real equality and justice, and marginalizing and harming our LGBTQ+ friends and loved ones. All this is interconnected. A government that treats some of its citizens with contempt will treat the land with comparable contempt.

We are going to need to try to stay informed about these things and know how to speak up. Perhaps we can choose an organization or two that we trust and channel some of our support and our advocacy through them. Perhaps it’s the Center for Biological Diversity, Earthjustice, or 350.org. Or it might be some other organization.

Here in Texas, the old-fashioned way of writing to elected representatives now seems a little … quaint. They do not represent us and are willing to harm us to get what they want. The head of Project 2025 wants a right-wing revolution which will be bloodless only “if the left allows it to be,” presumably meaning that they use violence if we don’t go along with what they want. The incoming President wants to be able to use the military against the “enemy within.” Significant portions of our own government are aligned with this view of us as the enemy (or are subservient to those who do). Somehow “please, sir, would you consider voting for this” does not seem like it will be effective with such people.

That is not to say we should not write to, say, Ted Cruz or Dan Crenshaw so that they know what their constituents think and maybe feel some pressure that might restrain them. We might share such letters publicly, in social media or a letter to the editor that says, “here’s what I wrote to Senator Cruz.” Normalize resistance, and let others know they are not alone.

But there is something else. How has it happened that more of our population shifted to the right? How have Proud Boys, bullies, and fascists become OK? How do Christians come to disavow Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount as “too weak” and embrace hatred and exclusion? What drives the love of violence and responding to disagreement or differences with bullying? How did so many of us (very often men) define their personal adequacy by their ability to humiliate or harm others?

I hope that we can be examples of a different way. We can be models of empathy, respect, and a recognition that how others are doing is important to our own well being. I hope we teach our children, and particularly our boys, that we can be both strong and gentle, and we should always look for non-violent ways to protect what we love. These things should not be confused with weakness and passivity. Sometimes physical strength is needed, but the most important strength is moral strength and the courage to stand up for principles without being a bully. Too many of us, particularly boys, have not seen examples of this or have watched those around them treat such qualities with contempt. That needs to change.

Don’t let the ugliness blind you to the beauty that is also around us. Take time for that beauty; let it in.

Before the Storm

On Monday morning, November 4th I felt the uncertainty of the storms that were on the horizon. How soon, and how severe would they be? But that was the future, and beyond my doing anything about. A good alternative was to be in the present, and also in the presence of trees, soil, and other living things. What could be as trustworthy and reassuring as nature? There are some people in my life like that, and they are essential. There are also places like that, and I’m grateful for them.

Oak leaves covering the trail – the oaks are dropping leaves without showing much autumn color

So, with storms still to the west, I took a walk at Sheri Capehart Nature Preserve. It was cloudy, with low cumulus clouds racing to the north and the occasional glimpse of blue sky between them. A couple of black vultures were overhead, careening back and forth in the wind with acrobatic turns and adjustments of flight feathers. From my camp stool near the bluff, it was 75.3F, continuing the above-average warmth that is becoming our new normal.

The “official” autumn colors: crimson and orange, yellow and green

At 9:20am I sat near the top of “Kennedale Mountain,” that hill that overlooks the lowland through which Village Creek drains. From the sandstone escarpment you can glimpse downtown Fort Worth through the oak branches, if you want to. I’d rather keep in the company of the blackjack oaks and sandstone, watching clouds or butterflies. Away from the bluff, on the back side of the hill is a place a bit more protected from traffic noise, where fewer visitors walk, and so it is a favorite with me.

A place a little quieter, maybe a little wilder than other locations

As I sat, a crow flew past, cawing loudly, and clouds continued streaming to the north. The wind moved through the trees, and when stronger pulses of air came through the sound was like a rushing river. Downslope toward the east I heard a northern cardinal and a Carolina wren.

Some of us need natural sounds like these, and relief from the unremitting mechanical noises that so often mask them. The noises of human activity are certainly present at the preserve, as it is located a little south of the third-busiest airport in the world and sits right beside major highway construction. But some days, when we let go of the noise and focus on birds, breeze moving the trees, or the occasional frog calls, we get a little of the peace that natural sounds bring.

A tracing of green in the crimson leaves of a ragged sumac

By 9:50am, back over on the bluff, the clouds seemed thicker and the sky a little darker. Here and there I noticed the pattern of fallen leaves on the ground; the variation in color and shape and things like acorns or moss always pull me in. It is art on a tiny scale, for those who are pulled toward such things.

The storms held off until after I left at 10:13am, and we can hope that they bring only the rain we need. A little thunder is always good – one of those natural sounds I like so much. Just under two hours at the preserve had brought some of the peace and wonder that are part of that place.

Preserving the FW Nature Center and Refuge

I’ve lived in North Texas for a long time, and the Nature Center and I go back many years. In the opening pages of Mindfulness in Texas Nature, the very first words are, “I went home on Christmas Eve 2019 to the Fort Worth Nature Center and Refuge.” I meant that those prairies and woodlands have shared so many days with me over the years that it feels like home. And so, sitting on a bench there on Christmas Eve was like visiting an old friend.

And the very first words in Herping Texas (published 2018) bring back a memory of surveying the reptiles and amphibians there: “Toward the end of March a few years back, a group of us took a walk through a bottomland forest at the Fort Worth Nature Center and Refuge.” I described the group of us walking through that forest and one member of the group accidentally discovering a rat snake making its way down the tree trunk where she was about to lean.

Flooded bottomland

In recent years I have written about the place many times for the online publication Green Source DFW. As a reporter I’ve covered the re-building of the marsh boardwalk, the bison deck overlooking bison pastures, the recognition of some of its woodland as an old growth forest, the statue honoring the work of the Civilian Conservation Corps on refuge property, and the re-introduction of prairie dogs there.

Now the City of Fort Worth is considering handing over the management of the Nature Center to the Botanical Research Institute of Texas (BRIT). The city would still own it, but BRIT would be in charge of some – or all – of its management and direction. I wrote about the issue in an article for Green Source DFW, which I hope you will read – “Should BRIT Take Over the Fort Worth Nature Center?

A November hillside at FWNCR

The Fort Worth Nature Center & Refuge (FWNCR) has been managed by a series of dedicated, smart, and creative individuals. At its inception it had the guidance of my friend Rick Pratt, and in later years there have been people like Wayne Clark, Suzanne Tuttle, Rob Denkhaus, and now Acting Manager Jared Wood. Those are big boots to fill, and I hope that any management changes leave such people in charge. They are people whose first commitment is to the integrity of the refuge as a relatively wild remnant of the Cross Timbers and prairies that were here before White settlers.

As I see it, the FWNCR connects us to the wildlife, woods, and prairies that are like our extended family. That family includes the trees and other plants that give us oxygen, pull carbon dioxide out of the air and sink it into the soil, the wetlands that filter our water, the insects that pollinate our crops. The land, water, and all the living things provide a spark of wonder that adds joy to our lives. 

A swallowtail at the edge of the lotus marsh

When we walk through the preserve, we become part of the land for a little bit, sharing a kinship with the rest of nature. We might even come to see our separation from nature as an illusion that we create, while the woods and prairies are the authentic reality.

What does the future hold? Can that authentic reality of the refuge hold its own against the urge to build more and more attractions, drawing in so many paying customers that the wildness is gone? We want everyone to share the refuge, learn from it, and fall in love with it. But not everyone all at once, and not by offering so many built attractions that people miss the point, which is the wildness.

I hope you will read my story at Green Source DFW and keep track of plans for what direction the city will take with FWNCR. Please step up and offer comments when the time comes, if you feel that your input is needed (and input from those who love nature is always needed!).