This August, The Upper Peninsula Land Conservancy & the Peter White Public Library hosted ‘Eyes of the Earth: Witnessing & Responding to Nearby Nature’ at the Chocolay Bayou Nature Preserve. The event carried a thread of conservation psychology, which claims that how we relate to, belong to, and commune with the natural world influences our actions to protect and steward it. Emphasized in the the event were the reciprocal relationships between humans and the more-than-human world. It aimed to provide a unique experience for Marquette and Harvey residents while engaging the coummunity in the protection and enjoyment of their public lands. Together, we sought to find reverence, wonder, and recognize the importance of nearby nature. In doing so, we experienced the linkages between conservation, psychological healing, and artistic expression.
We met on a beautiful Friday afternoon and the sun was shining in between the leaves of the bayou. The event began with a short poem reading by myself titled ‘Late Fragment’ by Raymond Carver from A New Path to the Waterfall, Atlantic Monthly Press, 1989. It goes as follows:
And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved,
to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
Participants were then led through a land acknowledgement, and were made aware that they were located on the ancestral homelands of the Anishinaabe Three Fires Confederacy. This is important to note because it was not long ago that the lands looked very differently than they do today. Before colonization, heavy forestation, and development, old growth white pine, hemlock, birch, and maple would have towered above the participants at the bayou. Wetlands, a place of tranditional medicine, would have covered much more of the land than we see today. It is imperative to remember and recognize the recent changes to this land, and who belongs to this land. It is now and always will be the homelands of the Anishinaabe people. The Chocolay Bayou Nature Preserve has important historical significance as The Chocolay River signifies the treaty boundary from the 1842 “Copper Treaty” of La Pointe. By this treaty, the Ojibwa ceded tracts of land that are now parts of the states of Wisconsin and Western Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Ceded means ‘to give up’, to yield, or surrender. In our history here on this continent, ceded does not usually mean willingly, as it has often occurred with force, violence, and powerful settler forces of determination and will. On this ceded land Ojibwa peoples retained hunting, gathering, and fishing rights. As we well know, issues of colonization and land rights have not ended today, but go on, and have changed shape and form.
Below is a map showing the 1842 Treaty of La Pointe land cession area of what is now called Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan.
Below is a symbolic 1849 petition attributed to Chief Buffalo Protesting the violation of the 1842 Treaty of La Pointe
Following this grounding opening and context, I led the participants to introduce themselves, one reason they were there, & to share their favorite nearby nature place.
Then began the witnessing portion of the program. Participants were asked to take the next 20 minutes or so to just be present with the place. Sauntering was mentioned as a mode moving about the preserve. Saunter’s entomology can be traced back to a meaning something like “to muse, to be in reverie”. I think about this idea of reverence often. Standing in soft awe, wonder, and respect. I think reverence holds enough space for both grieving a land changed and harmed, and deep respect and wonder for the life that is present. In France, people on pilgrimages to holy lands, when they passed by and were asked where they were going, they would reply ‘a la sainte terre’ meaning ‘to the holy land’. And so these walkers became known as sainte-terre-ers. I infer the anglican version then became saunter.
I encouraged participants to break out into small groups, or saunter by themselves. Folks were invited to witness what they witnessed, feel what they feel, and to allow space for what arises. I find a bit of movement to be helpful to feeling with a place, and so mentioned that rocking back and forth, breathing deeply in and out, or gentle arm motions was something that would be welcomed and allowed today. One of my favorite phrases is: ‘finding little green rooms in the forest’ which is a powerful practice of walking into a space that feels as if it's inviting you, you might find belonging in, and of which feelings of safety and protection are central. Participants were reminded of the phrase child’s mind, and I invited them to look at the forest as if they were seeing it for the first time. I finished by saying ‘May we tread lightly on the earth and forest floor today’.
Following this time, participants returned to the decided upon meeting area where we commenced, and so began the responding stage. Resources available for responding were determined by the participants, and many were offered and included such as: notebooks, charcoal pencils, polaroid cameras, and film cameras.
We broke out once again, back into the bayou's soft shadowy light. For the breakouts for responding, I invited participants to find a new area of interest or return to the same one. I invited attendees to go out and make photographs where they felt an intuitive pull. Or to pause and reflect on a place or plant or animal with a poem. My final invitation was to offer these words: “attempt, if you can, to tap into a deeper sense of knowing, belonging, and responding. We are doing our best today to not take from the land, but to be in a nurturing relationship with it.’
When everyone returned, we shared our findings, how we felt, and a collective breath. Several willing participants shared their poems, and to finish the event, Mary Oliver was read:
When I am Among the Trees
Mary Oliver
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It's simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
In the following weeks, a book was made with the works from the participants. Following are several images from the book:
The book can be viewed in its entirety at the Upper Peninsula Land Conservancy Office, 102 W Washington St Suite 213, Marquette, MI 49855.
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