#sense of place

[bluebelly-sun-serpentine]

August 28th, 2024

A couple days ago a fire started on the ridge above the big grove of eucalypts (picture number 4). Thankfully it was spotted quickly, a mild wind was blowing in the opposite direction, it had recently rained, and wildfire response resources were not deployed elsewhere; I watched the water tankers hovering over the spot for a while, grateful for everything, but especially for the fact that fire prefers to go up hill rather than down, and that this fire started in the ridge rather than the canyon. Eucalypts are not native to my area, and greatly increase the risk of out-of-control wildfires. They drop a ton of highly-flammable litter – tannin rich leaves that also leave an acidic, nutrient-poor soil few other plants can survive. So most of what's down in that grove is (also highly flammable) poison oak. Worse, if fire reaches the overstory, the whole thing can go up in what is basically one big explosion.

What you can see peeking through the afternoon fog in the first picture is over a century of cow-forward fire suppression; non-native grasses on (what is now public) land grazed by privately owned cows (damaging the watershed and increasing the risk of catastrophic fire in the long run). What you see in the bottom photo is an example of a more modern form of fire suppression: fire goats raised a couple counties away are hired to graze this field and clear small growth (mostly poison oak, since that's the most opportunistic plant around) annually in mid-summer, and it's mowed somewhat regularly. There have been attempts to thin or remove the eucalypts in the canyon entirely, but they are stubborn resprouters and starting from scratch poses its own dangers.

I think it's unlikely there won't be a catastrophic fire here in the next 50 years. There's just too much fuel. We just need an unseasonable lightning storm, a bad fire season with first responders deployed elsewhere, reckless smokers in the gully at night with the winds blowing west. Every year I prepare myself for this possibility. We've had wet winters and hot, dry summers, and that's probably only going to get worse. Why would I stay here?

I don't know. I can walk down into the canyon and the eucalypts, unaware of their own malignancy, yawn and groan as they bend to touch one another in the wind. I get to watch coyotes hunting for wild plums in the evening; the plums aren't native but I'd guess the coyotes don't know that, either. My neighbors plant gardens you couldn't grow somewhere without this much warmth and sea fog. Crows harass red-tailed hawks in the few redwoods planted here to evoke a recent, unreachable past. I know where the nearest great horned owl lives. I know what the arrival and departure of naked ladies means, which oaks are which and which I love most, when thimbleberries might arrive, how to scare a mountain lion, where to go to find cool elders and willows when I'm feeling hot and low, how to tell toyon from everyone impersonating toyon, when the newts migrate. One one side of the ridge I can hear the train screeching unmistakably, but if I hop over into the next watershed it's gone, replaced by bickering scrub jays, happy dogs, children playing near the creek far below me. Would you know how to leave?

[joy-haver]

Tumblr is really great because it’s a small community and therefore you tend to recognize people, people are a little more open and friendly.

But it being a small community also can mean that anything you post that’s culturally specific is kinda dead in the water. Unless there are active tags for your cultural group (which is a huge assumption) or you are mostly followed by people you know irl (uncommon), then most people who see what you say won’t have any understanding of it, so it’ll never reach the people who are like you. And they make up such a small proportion of the website.

What this means is that we end up selecting for the most monoculture posts to be popular. And i don’t even just mean “white US American culture”. It is that, but more so, it’s the worst version of that. The version that is stripped of any sense of place. The version that is removed from daily experiences and life ways. The version that can be exported through multinational corporate influences.

The most homogenized experiences are the most universal. The same grocery stores, the same cars, the same gas stations, the same chain restaurants, and the same holidays are spreading throughout the world through the American machine. They are so spread here that many streets across the country look exactly the same, and you slowly see that colonizing other places.

I say all this to say; maybe relatability isn’t the only thing we should value in posts we reblog. Maybe we should try to celebrate the culturally stuff more.

[reportsofagrandfuture]

This dude gets it

[arron-foster-studio]

……….

Out _The Laundromat Edition

Digital output on 80# text weight paper.

20 pages

Saddle Stitch

2023/24

All original photographs and scans with the exception of an original image of lye soap created by Teresa Foster.

#zine #photozines #artistoninstagram #place #senseofplace #geniusloci #ohio #ohioartist #kentohio #laundromat #northeastohio #photography #scanography #art #zine #contemporaryart

[mrbenvs3000w24]

My Relationship with Nature: A Lifelong Journey of Mentorship and Discovery in North Bay

Growing up in the heart of Northern Ontario, amidst the serene beauty of North Bay, I've had the privilege of developing a profound connection with nature that has shaped my worldview and defined my sense of place. My journey into the arms of Mother Nature has been a lifelong odyssey, and in this blog post, I'll explore how this relationship has evolved over the years, with a special nod to the person who offered me a lasting "sense of place" – my father.

Nestled between the picturesque landscapes of Lake Nipissing and Trout Lake, North Bay has been more than just a geographical location for me. It's a sanctuary, a haven, and a teacher. The two lakes, each with its own unique charm, have been the backdrop to countless memories and the catalyst for my passion for the great outdoors.

My earliest encounters with nature were guided by the steady hand of my father. He was my mentor, introducing me to the wonders of the natural world and instilling in me a deep respect for the intrinsic value of spending time amidst its beauty. From the tender age of a curious child, I embarked on adventures with him, exploring the wooded trails surrounding our home and casting my gaze upon the vastness of Lake Nipissing.

Hiking became our shared passion, an activity that not only strengthened our bond but also allowed me to appreciate the intricate details of the local flora and fauna. The trails became our silent storytellers, narrating tales of resilience, adaptation, and the cyclical beauty of life in Northern Ontario.

As I grew older, our adventures took on new dimensions. Kayaking and canoeing became staples of our summer adventures, with several Northern Ontario Lakes serving as our aquatic playgrounds. The rhythmic paddle strokes mirrored the harmony of nature, and the shimmering waters beneath us became a canvas upon which we painted memories that would last a lifetime.

Portaging added an element of challenge and camaraderie to our outdoor pursuits. Carrying a canoe between lakes tested our physical strength but also reinforced the idea that every obstacle in nature could be overcome with determination and teamwork. In this sense, my relationship with nature became an immersive journey of self-discovery, resilience, and a profound understanding of the interconnectedness between humans and the natural world.

Camping during the May long weekends has evolved into a cherished tradition for our family—a time to disconnect from the hustle of everyday life and fully embrace the calming wilderness. The crackling campfire, the symphony of night sounds, and the crisp scent of pine needles all contribute to the enchantment of our outdoor retreats.

This annual tradition, etched into the fabric of my life since birth, marks a celebration of the warmer days as we pitch our tents, stoke the campfire, and revel in the timeless joy of camping beneath the starlit canopy. These weekends symbolize the changing seasons and serve as a poignant reminder that nature, like life, unfolds in a continuous cycle of renewal and growth.

In retrospect, my relationship with nature has not only been nurtured by the enchanting landscapes of North Bay but also shaped by the values and lessons imparted by my father. Through his guidance, I've come to understand that nature is not merely a place we visit; it's a living, breathing entity that deserves our respect and protection.

As I continue to explore the wonders of North Bay and beyond, I carry with me the imprints of these formative experiences, particularly those shared with my father. His presence in every hiking trail, every paddle across the lakes, and every crackle of the campfire has been a constant reminder of the profound impact a parent can have on shaping a deep connection with the natural world.

North Bay, with its endless trails, lakes, and timeless beauty, will forever be the canvas on which my journey with nature unfolds, painted with the brushstrokes of memories created alongside my father. It is here, amidst the serene beauty of Northern Ontario, that our shared adventures have defined not only my hobbies but also instilled in me a deep sense of responsibility towards the environment. In the silent whispers of the trees and the gentle lapping of the lakeshores, his teachings echo, forming the foundation of my enduring "sense of place."

Attached above is a photo of me, immersed in the serene beauty of Northern Ontario, engaged in the rhythmic pursuit of kayaking. Paddle in hand, I navigate the tranquil waters, each stroke propelling me forward on a journey of connection with nature. This snapshot encapsulates more than a mere moment; it captures the essence of my deep affinity for the outdoors. In the gentle sway of the kayak and the picturesque surroundings, the photo becomes a visual ode to the timeless joy of exploring the pristine lakes that have been an integral part of my life's journey.

[sait-spi-si-fic]

Ohio

[egenvs3000f23]

Blog 1: My Relationship With Nature and Sense of Place Within it

Week 1 Prompt: Describe your current relationship with nature. How has this developed/evolved? Who offered you “a sense of place,” as described in our textbook?

I grew up amongst the rolling hills, creeks forests and farms of Caledon Ontario. Since I was young I have always felt connected to nature, and I account this largely to the setting in which I grew up. Instead of street names, malls, houses, shops and recreation centers, my neighborhood was instead conservation areas, farms and undeveloped land. My friends and I would go for long bike rides and hikes and play in the woods growing up. I think this is where my current relationship with nature has had its roots.

As time went on I became busy, I trained 22hrs a week as a competitive swimmer, went to a highschool in the city and eventually made my way to the university of guelph. Nature and my time in it got further away. I missed it and have since realized the profound impact it has on my well being, so I started to find my way back. I got into triathlons after quitting swimming and started to trail run and bike. To me there is no greater feeling of freedom than moving through outdoor space, particularly one of nature, running and biking re introduced this to me. I then had the chance to work at a mountain top tea house in Banff where I lived without electricity and amenities for a summer. I truly felt I knew the place. By the time I left, I could name every mountain, valley, river, identify countless trees, birds, plants and, having just completed a geomorphology course, understand the topography of the landscape. The friendships I made that summer were unmeasurable in their meaning, and I would say these came about from the full immersion in time, place and nature as well as from the lack of modern distractions and amenities. The level of understanding I gained for that place really intensified my relationship with nature.

The following summer I worked as a park ranger in Terrace British Columbia, we worked 8 days on and 6 days off. During our shifts we would do a combination of backcountry maintenance, public outreach and communication as well as ecological monitoring. Spending days camping in the backcountry at first was scary to me. I feared the large wildlife, moose, bears, cougars etc. However by the end of the summer that fear was replaced by respect, understanding and a sense of security and belonging. To be able to walk through the old growth rainforest, see endangered species, learn cultural histories, and understand the ecology and relationships between species of plants, animals and fungi was eye opening. I feel more at risk in cities and suburbs than I ever have in the great outdoors. When doing public outreach I got to address people's concerns and curiosities about the parks I was working in. There were so many people who had no clue about bear safety or the vital role of predators in our ecosystems. Being able to help explain ecosystems and their importance, as well as, how to take safety precautions to enjoy the outdoors without fear and instead respect, further evolved my relationship with nature and my sense of place in it.

On a different note, I have always had a fear of death, I myself am not religious, and it was in my immersion with nature that I found a healthy peace and respect for it instead. To respond to who offered me a sense of place, I would say it was all the people who helped to shape my understanding of nature as well as those who provided me with the opportunities to explore on my own; there are a lot of people and places that deserve credit. My family when I was young, those I met in the jobs I worked, and the opportunities that came my way present a brief summary.

Enjoy this gif of a bear scratching its back:

[my-virtual-pearls]

Sense of Place is the spring photography exhibit at Westerlay Third Space Gallery. The SL photos are groupings from several Destinations and are by Klaus Bereznyak and Pearl Grey.

I lightened the exposure on these blog pics so some of the art photos look washed out.

After looking around the gallery, you can teleport to the ground; there are things to explore there as well as in the neighborhood.

Located off Route 11 near the Farmers Market.

[f0restpunk]

Julianna Barwick - The Magic Place Best Albums of the 2010s Playlist (ongoing)

[misstsiki]

Grandma's tea flowers

[alohapromisesforever]

For the Sake of Community

For the Sake of Communityby Michael DoyleDecisions are made for the sake of communityAs we join hands to rebuild a sickened societyWords and intonation create a transcendent headspaceWhere the weak fill their need for a sense of placeTrust in the plan as the tepid cult leaders sayAlong with other thought terminating clichesThese, those, and other words are semantic stop signs They form the cue to…

[kimbazee]

On the Edge of Autumn

This morning I awoke to another day, with muted birdsong, and an orange sun rising over the trees at the end of the field across the street. My goal is to get up just before the sun and stand on the front porch or walk around for a few minutes to be present at sunrise. This is supposed to support a healthy circadian rhythm as well as give my eyes some much-needed red light therapy. My eye doctor…

[mmwm]

LINK FEST: 9 APRIL 2024

Links that may or may not be related to gardens, food, travel, nature, or heterotopias and liminal spaces but probably are. Sources in parentheses. photo essay: Exploring the Isle of Mull: Travels in and around Scotland (Carol Anne Strange/Yonderspell). The first instalment of a travelogue about a visit to Mull, the second largest of the Hebridean islands, reached by car ferry, as well as the…

[goodpix2021]

Thirty Days on the Road

This is the end. ��Thirty days in the jailhouse, four days on the roadI was feeling mighty hungry, my feet a heavy loadSaw a greyhound coming, stuck up my thumbJust as I was being seated, the driver caught my arm Said, That’ll be cash on the barrel head, sonThis old gray dog gets paid to runWhen the engine stops, Lord, the wheels won’t rollGive me cash on the barrel head, I’ll take you down the…

[arron-foster-studio]

Title: Wash, Rinse, Repeat

Media: Accordion Fold Structure, Pigment Print on Stonehenge, Full cloth cover.

Dimensions:

Closed- 5”x5.5”

Open- 5.5”x 55”

2023/24

Unique

[sait-spi-si-fic]

Ohio