Nature for All

"To everyone, especially to those who live in narrow streets where automobiles are thicker than ants in an ant hill and where trolleys clang, sirens screech, and people rush about, we say, come to this beautiful Blue Ridge area for recreation and interesting knowledge...; come, and enjoy tranquillity in the canyons where streams ripple over rocks and waterfalls...; come, and feel the stimulation of the strong wind on some lofty peaks. Do these things, and you will not be disappointed; you will carry away a memory of beautiful and interesting places and a little more strength, a little more wisdom, a little more happiness than you brought with you." -- James R. Lassiter, "Shenandoah National Park," reprinted from The Commonwealth, July 1936, Spec. Coll., U.Va.

I woke up this morning to a doe and fawn eating leaves outside my bedroom window. In Shenandoah National Park I am surrounded by forest and wildlife, but the "wilderness" area surrounding me was not always so.

Until Shenandoah became a national park in 1936, the area was largely farmland and orchards. After the state acquired private lands and removed local inhabitants, forests filled the hillsides once again to create the scenic landscapes present today. As James R. Lassiter eloquently expressed, in our present day world with disappearing natural areas we become reliant upon parks and protected oases of nature as a retreat for the soul; a respite for recharge from our busy work lives in the city. Beyond the meditative effect that nature can provide, parks and protected areas are essential to sustain wildlife populations in a world dominated by humans and their expanding footprint of pavement and cultivated land. And thus, we must remember to plan our landscapes and allot areas for nature, not only for the benefit of wildlife, but for both present and future generations of people to enjoy.

Enter: Shenandoah

I just arrived in Shenandoah National Park (Virginia) from Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve (Alaska) 3 days ago. This Once-Upon-A-Time City Boy was thrown into culture shock in the city of Washington D.C.. Straight from the unpaved untouched temperate rainforest of Alaska, I did not feel entirely different than a mountain lion in California stumbling upon a 5-lane highway. What has happened to this planet? I couldn't wait to re-enter the woods. Enter: Shenandoah National Park.

Likely with a confused expression plastered upon my face, the shuttle snagged me from the arrival doors at the airport. I gladly ducked inside with my backpack, eager to meet the calm world of the forest once again. Within an hour, my face was pressed to the glass admiring the rolling hills, trees, and farmland. I entered a new type of National Park. I entered a "wild" land corralled by cityscape and paved roads. Nonetheless, I was intrigued. I welcomed this different kind of nature.

Here I am, my first day off in Shenandoah National Park. I'm situated in the middle of the forest, just below the crest of the hill that overlooks the Shenandoah Valley. The forests here are largely second growth forests, reemerging from the farmlands that once dominated the landscape. I traveled from the rainforests of Alaska to the mountains of Virginia, but it wasn't until my afternoon jog that my new setting dawned upon me. The forest here is thick with thin-trunked trees and a deep layer of brown leaf detritus separated by ferns and under-shrubbery. The lack of a dense tree canopy was rather alarming at first glance. I am used to interlocking branches draped with thick layers of moss. Everything in Alaska is green. Further, here in Shenandoah the presence of humanity is apparent. There are benches along the trails, there are bridges, horseback riding trails, and roads. To most Americans, Shenandoah is the wild. To me, after living in "The Last Frontier," I see a "wild" area created by humanity for nature, yet not a true wilderness. Regardless, the sunshine, the bird calls, the prancing deer leaping before me, were all welcoming sights after leaving Alaska.

I am excited to spend my autumn in Shenandoah National Park. I'm excited to be on the East Coast with the erratic thunderstorms, the second growth forests, the milkweed and butterflies, the deer, the crickets that sing under the sunshine, the moonlit orchestra of sounds from our lovely family: the insectidae, and the indescribable array of colors the trees display as the summer nights transition to the winter's eve. I am back on the East Coast and although it's a world apart from Alaska, it still is a wild land of nature, and I am looking forward to the stories that unfold.