Just as the temperature, precipitation, and fault lines shape the land, the land shapes those who inhabit it. It shapes some people, however, more than others. The more one listens to the land, the more the land will share, and the more one shares with the land, the more one will cherish and wish to preserve it. As human technology has advanced, however, many people have become more secluded from undeveloped land, and as a result, know and value less about it. Most people in the United States can now name more football teams than types of trees. This disconnection between people and the inhabited land results in misunderstood conflicts such as flooding and wild animals like deer venturing into urban areas. In my quest to avoid such issues by learning more about the world, I have delved into researching the environment around my house. By observing and spending time in the land around my home, I have built a connection with the environment and come to identify with the wildlife that share it with me.
Because of both their beauty and what I can learn from them, birds and wild plants have become a large part of who I am. There is nothing quite like watching the grace of a buteo as it skillfully navigates invisible thermals or the empowering satisfaction of hearing a bird and knowing immediately what kind of habitat lies ahead. Their abundance in addition to the seemingly inherent human fascination with flight is what initially got me interested in birds. Now, the beauty of birds, what I can learn about the landscape by listening to them, and the allure of all the things I don’t know about them, keep me intent on learning more about the feathery creatures. My family has branded me the household “bird nerd”, a name I have begun to identify with despite my outward denial of its accuracy. I am additionally working on learning the names and uses of as many plants and trees as possible. In spring, to my mother’s surprise, I roasted the roots of the young burdock plants that had plagued our dogs the year before. I have also been working on tree identification, a feat that tells me about the forest’s successional stage and as a result, provides insight into the history of the land. By paying close attention to the birds and plants around me, I have learned about the current and historical shape of the land and assimilated its lessons into my identity.
By taking the time to foster an understanding of the animals that live on the same land as me, I have grown closer to the land and begun to recognize some of what would be lost if it were to be converted to farmland or developed. In the late 1800s, so much of Vermont’s forests had been clear-cut that today’s iconic wild turkeys had become locally extinct. The vast majority of Vermont’s forests, having only been replanted in the mid-1900s, still have yet to reach their climax communities. Already, however, the forests are being threatened once again as Vermont’s high housing demand sparks further development. Building taller homes in already-developed areas rather than homes that require the removal of trees is the best way to minimize human impact on the forest, however, such urban houses may lack easy access to the forest and, consequently, could add to the disconnection of the inhabitants from the land. In addition to building as habitat-friendly homes as possible, it is necessary to promote a lifestyle that invokes respect and love for the land.