12.19.09 The Problem with Environmentalism
Maxwelton Journal|Christopher is working assiduously on the site plan and permit process. I’m upset today. The way the trees are cut and piled makes the land look worse than it is. We are not allowed to work until permits are straightened out, and now it’s the weekend, and the holidays are coming. The plants beneath the trees are suffocating without light, and I want to at least uncover them. Don’s machine can lift and pile them with minimal damage, but it needs to be done soon for the sake of the plants. I don’t understand why this part is stopped. I have to remember to stop, breathe, and appreciate the earth’s resilience–appreciate the vision of what we intend there. Think of the forest garden, think of how we will save the soil, recover the plants, and clear out the invasive species.
When I first walked out onto the five acre parcel we are now involved with, we were experiencing a late fall, and everything was green, the nettles were high, and the earth was in full, albeit mature, bloom. I worried excessively about breaking every little branch, or stepping on moss, or disturbing the wildlife. I was angry at the men with machete’s cutting through the brush so we could see the corners of the property. Later, once we’d acquired the land, I came back and was surprised to see so much just gone–winter had cleared the land and made trails and open areas, much to my relief. We were able to then pick the smallest portion of the land for the house-site to clear of alders, in a narrow area between property lines and down the hill from some vigorous and happy looking firs I would not allow to be cut for any reason.
This is not the first time this land has been logged. Probably third or fourth generation, evidence of old stumps are here and there, and the alders are mature, multiply branched, many of them dangerously rotting and already split. Still, I understand how some of the neighbors could be upset. Hearing and seeing any part of the forest coming down, especially in an age where forests are becoming scarce, is disturbing. And the multiple forks of the alders lying on the ground look like more than one tree. We’ve cut no more than we said we would, and even we are shocked and disturbed by home much it seems to be.
And this is the problem with us. My knee-jerk environmentalism, I realize, was never effective because of how removed I was from reality and the earth–from what actually occurs so that I can use toilet paper, live in a house framed with wood, and enjoy the level of comfort in my life that I enjoy. By being outside these past few days, being part of the work that supplies me with some basic shelter needs, seeing and hearing the trees come down, I think I’m starting to get it. It’s not that we use the earth for our needs–it is how we use the earth for our needs. We’re more than willing to purchase the wood and bring it in, and it’s all very sanitary and we can’t see the damage done to the forest somewhere else. We are all too willing to let someone else do the dirty work. We are removed from the process involved to bring us our stuff, and then become angry when we have to witness it. The pain of witnessing is great, and it should be great. We should be suffering over the trees coming down.
But the fact is, we still need to use the trees. We just have to use them with great respect, and then mitigate for what we’ve done. Paying for the labor done somewhere else isn’t enough. No one who lives in a house is excused from this–and what matters now is how we make up for the losses. But, my fear is, most of us never see it, never witness it. We’ve santized our world to such a degree, that we don’t feel in our bones what happens to the earth. Feeling it now, every thud of every tree, I will never be the same. And I can no longer be the smug person who believes I’ve not had the impact of someone who logs, or drills for oil, or otherwise does the work of getting resources from the earth. Every one of is complicit in this, whether we admit it or not.
