Landscaping / Manhandling

Grass Valley, South Fork of Wolf Creek / Bear River

You can’t help but appreciate a word like landscapism. It was coined by Eddie Proctor, a PhD candidate at the University of Exeter in England (http://landscapism.blogspot.com). He defines it as “navigating the interface between landscape history and deep topography.”

Escapism automatically comes to my mind. In the western world, this began with Wordsworth and his cronies (and many unnamed others), when writers walked for sublime experiences and not just to get somewhere. Some of the cave paintings found in Lascaux, Chauvet and Altimira date back to 30,000 years ago and make it abundantly clear that people have responded to beauty for a very long time. It’s not a stretch to assume that people, even then, walked for pleasure, transcendence and heightened sensuality. When I escape into the landscape I’m not so much freed from the ordinary but instead miraculously immersed – no longer apart from the world but engaged and a part of it – no longer crossing a landscape but entering it.

The obvious physical elements of Yuba River country include its geology, soils, streams, forests, springs, wetlands, valleys, peaks, meadows, waterfalls and biota. Then fold in visual, olfactory and audio elements and add climate, prevailing winds, visibility, navigability and marketability. There are a surprising number of landscapes in the watershed that have been created by human agency. These efforts may have their origins decades or even centuries ago. Some of the changes have been deliberate while others were inadvertent, most of them of them sprung from what were once considered good ideas.

Definitions of landscape have slowly changed to the degree that culture is now recognized as an integral part of the environment. Much of the Yuba River region consists of cultural landscapes created by our history, which includes thousands of years of native management practices, gold mining, logging, grazing, homesteading, fire suppression, water management, recreation activities, the transcontinental railroad, thousands of miles of roads and more. In most of the Yuba watershed we’re surrounded by the proximity of the past. Landscape is therefore a cultural construct, which gives meaning to places and reflects human memory. 

Anthropochory, Castle Creek / South Yuba

Originally humans integrated with the natural world and soon as it was practicable imposed their desires on the landscape. Once the glaciers receded and humans arrived in what would become California it was no longer a pristine untouched “Eden.” As popular food writer Michael Poulan observes, “To act in nature is to stain it with culture.” There is no way of knowing the attitudes that indigenous people had about manipulating and living within their ecosystems but in the historic era the human ability for environmental modification was seen as what made us so special as a species. In the 19^th century uncontrolled “wilderness” was viewed as threatening and as a challenge that, if not confronted, could be considered shirking our imagined mandate to subdue nature.

We are busy animals who can imagine a project; we can engineer the landscape for particular purposes, whether it’s a house pit, a dam, a corral, a ditch or a shopping mall. Cultural perspectives determine how we interact with the landscape. Our actions can have deliberate and often unforeseen consequences such as the presence of harmful levels of mercury in today’s Yuba River fish population. Mercury, or quicksilver, was originally introduced to recover gold particles and not to deliberately contaminate fish and people.

When we look at an actual landscape, or even a map, we tend to assess its value. For instance, any analysis of the Yuba River watershed is typically deconstructed into resources such as timber, minerals, grazing, water allocation, agriculture, managed recreation, etc., each with their own constituency. There is a very real push for a commodified environment on public land that includes Wi-Fi access. It’s being promoted as a safety precaution but you know it will come with commercial messages and the distraction of glowing devices will introduce its own safety issues. I’m not promoting recklessness, it’s important to educate “visitors” about potential dangers, but I’m all for awareness and tend to see safety as ultimately an individual responsibility. I grew up near the Chesapeake Bay where, as a wild boy, I took endless risks in the woods, swamps and streams and I don’t regret any of it. My education began there and to this day discovery, awe, playfulness, insight and beauty, both subtle and overpowering, remain exhilarating ingredients that permeate my life.

New Bullards Bar Dam, North Yuba

Scientists, engineers and investors are driven to decipher, to “unravel,” the mysteries of the natural world. Theirs is typically a tightly focused view from a highly specialized scientist or institution whose perspective does not necessarily include the interconnectedness of the natural world. The major model for inquiry is economic (agribusiness, pharmaceuticals, mining, hydroelectricity. etc.) and it will determine the ideas that will be pursued by funding, or not funding, the research.

Seeking knowledge is commendable but the fervor to prove that everything can be explained scientifically is not. Are we seeking a domesticated planet, where one species rules all others? Where’s the poetry and grace? Science is very important to our culture but it’s only one lens. According to poet Charles Simac, “Ambiguity is the world’s condition. Poetry flirts with ambiguity. As a picture of reality, it is truer than any other”. Other opinions include R. Crumb’s scrappy comic book guru, Mr. Natural, who asks, “Can the mind know it?” Wendell Berry wrote in Our Only World (2015), ”Humility is the primary virtue of good forestry …ultimately it requires work that honors not only the known complexity but also the unknown, the mystery of the nature of any place.”

Shortsighted human ingenuity has always been a double-edged sword. Even in the environmental community there are those who believe that problems caused by technology can be solved or contained by more technology. We may be incredibly clever but lack wisdom, an observation made by Ishi, the last traditional Yahi Indian, who surrendered himself in Oroville in the early 20^th century. Think about it, we haven’t yet come to grips with the moral implications of chainsaw use while the right to carry a gun is becoming sacrosanct and increasingly the threat of war passes for diplomacy.

Fire and Gold Mining, Slate Creek / North Yuba

  

With the rise of digital devices, global homogenization and a steep decline in time spent outdoors over the past few decades, we humans may be losing our awareness of the intracacies of place. Will we lose our respect for what is wild? If so, how does this loss affect our chances of – and even desire to – conserve and protect the world’s natural resources?

I don’t want to end on a negative note. We all know someone with a bit of wisdom, or at least common sense. It is important that we listen to them and act accordingly so that we all keep growing. Cheryl Strayed, author of Wild, recommends that you “Put yourself in the way of beauty ” This may be seen, by some, as a small step but it’s definitely in the right direction.

Arboglyph, Salmon Creek / North Yuba