When I was a teenager, I would ride my horse deep into the Northern California wilderness. I came of age living in big nature. Given California’s growth and development, that ride would now be impossible. Yet phylogenetically, big nature is deep in all of our psyches. So I began to wonder why we were so rapidly destroying it. Years later at my first job at the University of Houston, I was studying children and parents’ environmental views and values. I found the children knew what air pollution was; but when we asked them if Houston had a problem with air pollution, they said, “No, we don’t have pollution here.” At the time, Houston was the most polluted city in the United States. – Peter Kahn, Environmental Psychologist
Environmental Generational Amnesia (EGA) was identified by Peter Kahn when I was working as an environmental educator. It began to answer my puzzlement about why people could not see the degradation of nature over time.
Kahn explained this phenomenon occurs as each generation takes the environment in their time as the norm.
Now, in America, I am wondering if this phenomenon works with memory of a democracy. We take what is before us as what it has always been.
In Kahn’s recommendations to counter environmental generational amnesia he worked with urban planners, for example, to build in features that allow local residents to experience more robust nature in a built environment.
Could we do the same for each generation to remember and know the origins of our Republic by experiencing aspects of a democratic society through out our lives as The People. Our form of governance is dependent on robust citizen and representative action and participation.
We could start by considering how to identify fairness, developing respectful listening; teaching check and balance by designing situations where kids can participate in situations demonstrate how it works to protect representation, free speech, and other key characteristics of a democratic society.
I recall a teacher in high school who designed his homeroom to function in this manner. He did something else: he taught us the Latin and Greek derivation of many words in our language so that we could derive meaning from root words
Do you agree that a type of democratic generational amnesia may be a force that works to undermine democratic governance which is dependent on individuals possessing more than rudimentary knowledge (i.e. memorizing definitions).
For too long, the dominant culture has cleaved humans from the web of life, insisting upon human separation from and superiority to the larger living world. That assumption has been translated into law, governance, and other realms of practice, justifying the treatment of nonhumans and nature as treasure troves for endless exploitation. However, the grip of this mode of thinking is beginning to ease, leaving space for new ideas and actions to sprout through. MOTH – More Than Human Life Program, https://mothrights.org/about/
Among thoughtful people across disciplines, the understanding that human beings are woven into the fabric of Nature – animal, plant, river, ocean – all is part of a whole that is interconnected beyond the human imagination. Recent research on trees, for example, demonstrate how certain trees “mother” others and pass on their knowledge to new generations. We’ve learned how fungi are a living glue and generative structure that is ubiquitous in nature and microbes in human beings are a living brain in the gut lining. The more we learn, the more we are humbled before the whole of life on earth.
Now, as great harm is evident through the combined activities of human beings which weakens and disappears species, robs whole forests or rivers of its life sustaining powers, we are called to reconsider whether the Earth is for human taking. What of the rights of all beings who make human life possible?
Emergence Magazine Podcast my readers will note is a well I return to frequently to gain new perspectives on the nature of our relationship to the whole of life. Western philosophy separates humans from nature, thereby providing rationale for extraction and overharvesting for economic gain and for power over others. Ironically for America, present at the time of exploration were millions of Americans with intricate knowledge of how to live on a piece of land without ruining it (Aldo Leopold) and a conceptual understanding of the web of life and its spiritual nature. To me this is one of our nation’s greatest sins. Yes, I consider it a sin because a thinking person through observation alone can observe how life is wildly interconnected and sacred.
In Song of the Cedars listeners experience the oneness of life with an exceptional group of humans interwoven in the panoply of a healthy rain forest.
Consider whether the exploitation of a mineral from the earth should come with a cost paid back to that mountain based on the legal rights of nature. While listening to this podcast, I thought, “Wow. to think there are people who are engaged in integration in the web of life. I thought these are our most important people, guides and wisdom keepers.”
Let me know what you think about this movement. What is your experience with the rights of nature if any.
At present Lake Mead and Lake Powell on the Colorado River distribution system are at record lows (Lake Mead 34% and Lake Powell 27%).
From 1990 to 2008 I called Arizona home. I lived first in Yuma where the Colorado River channels into myriad canals to water America’s vegetables and grains in the Imperial Valley of California.
It was in this vast valley that I first encountered the Colorado, unrecognizable to me as it was sprayed at high velocity from circulating sprinklers. Precious water evaporated in the dry hot atmosphere before falling to the ground. Row upon row of lettuce, broccoli, and cabbages lapped up what water fell to ground. As far as the eye could see, this preposterous apparition filled my windshield as I drove through to Yuma at the confluence of Arizona, California and Mexico borders.
In its natural state, the Colorado River ran down through the Rockies, gathering size and speed, carving deep canyons in the red sandstone of northern Arizona. The river ran red where it dropped suddenly down toward the Sonoran Desert, flooding its banks in the spring as it flowed down into Mexico and emptied into the Sea of Cortez (Gulf of California). Where it slowed and spread from its banks, marshlands formed that were places of high biodiversity. Plenty of fish and game were found by Indigenous peoples and later explorers. All along the river near Yuma, forests of mesquite trees released bushels of nutritious bean pods. Later, university scientists discovered the pods, when ground and made into flour, provide local people with immunity to diabetes. Mesquite bread is naturally sweet and easily digested. River peoples grew crops in rich deposits of mud left by the receding waters. Legends of fish so large and numerous the people could walk across the river.
In our Anthropocene era, the river is most recognizable in its highest elevations where it continues to cut the stone of Colorado and Northern Arizona and carry it tumbling south. Hoover Dam at Lake Mead collects the lion’s share of water, but starting at Parker in Arizona, water is pumped 700 ft into the air where it drops into an open canal system (Central Arizona Project or CAP) and travels by gravity toward Phoenix, shimmies through and on to Tucson and then drips into Mexico. Over decades after the canals grew with a burgeoning population and larger farms, the river never made it to the mouth of the Sea of Cortez. It petered out above the marshlands of northeast Mexico which slowly dried up. Recent efforts by environmentalists and indigenous communities managed to restore the flow enough to fill key areas of marshes again. The once rich biodiversity is returning.
At this date, two dams and their respective reservoirs, Lake Mead and Lake Powell, are at historically low levels. Hoover dam was built in the ’30s of the 20th century on assumptions made during an unusually high snowpack in the Rockies that was not the norm. The dam at Lake Powell was later built to collect water and generate electricity for business, farming and cities. Desert lands where the canals distribute water are biomes with limited water. Turns out that the Colorado River flows are normally lower than the projected. Long-term tree ring studies show regular drought periods of up to 100 years. The area is in one now.
Warming from climate change is causing snowpack changes – faster melting rates and new evaporation of ice crystals directly into a gaseous state.
As American food security, economy, science and culture face a potential crisis, how will 40 million people live in a hot, dry desert? From LA to Phoenix to Tucson and points between, much will be unsustainable without reliable Colorado River water. Cities have mostly drained their ground water. Some like Tucson are replenishing it with CAP water but that, too, is a scenario with a short horizon.
Now the powers that made the Law of the River (Upper and Lower Colorado coalition of states, municipalities and tribal nations) are talking about draining Lake Powell and sending water to Lake Mead. All partners will see reduced acre feet per year, and some will no longer receive any water from the river. Ongoing talks and mediation have reached no agreement yet. Arizona’s tribal nations are adamant that they must be part of that negotiation.
Lake Powell in southern Colorado was constructed under a huge outcry by residents and tribal governments who ultimately suffered the sacrifice of their homes and property and traditional homelands to fill the huge reservoir. Traditional lands of Indigenous nations must be returned. What about all the people who lost their homes and farms?
Will humanity learn anything from this tragic miscalculation? I’m skeptical given history.
When Congress commissioned John Wesley Powell to survey the West and determine its potential for farming and building cities, he traveled extensively in the West and was one of the first expeditions to make the wild trip down the Colorado River from the headwaters to Yuma. Result? He reported to Congress that the area held limited water for most of the land mass and that if the government should sell lands to enterprising ranchers, farmers and speculators, they should bear the financial burden of providing what water supply they could find. Imagine if they had followed Powell’s advice. Many fewer people would reside in the Western deserts; the food supply would be regionally grown, and the international food markets would be in places where rain naturally falls. The River would run free, nourishing human and natural communities to the sea.
I once wrote a speculative fiction novel in which, due to changes in climate, local communities formed enterprises that fit the bioregions where they lived. Later, they became small nations with a shared ethic that recognized the ecology of place and innovated within natural limits.
The American Southwest is a 2025 award-winning documentary with updated information and spectacular photography. It shows the biodiversity and the role of many animals, plants and insects adapted to the river, and how their lifeways provide sustainable strategies for human life in arid lands.
It traces the original agreements (The Law of the River) on how the Colorado River water would be allocated, the construction of Lake Mead, and subsequent construction of Lake Powell. I recommend the film for citizens and students of ecology and bioregionalism as we enter a defining period when we will all need to work together to mitigate and adapt to a changing climate. If we consider the land and water in that partnership, I believe we can live within the limits of the Earth while innovating in our communities.
… every day, 2,000 acres of farmland are lost to non-agricultural uses, many farms continue to lose topsoil at alarming rates; and one-third of America’s farmland may change hands in the next 15 years as aging landowners sell their properties. These trends jeopardize the future of agriculture and our environment. Farmland is essential for food production—the demand for which is expected to increase by 60% by 2050. But farmland is also essential for a wide array of ecosystem services on which our future depends.~ American Farmland Trust
The American Farmland Trust is where I first learned about the importance of land trusts as a means of conserving land for farming, forestry, and soil improvement. I was living in Bowling Green, Kentucky when I was learning about the organization and its goals. This was during the Pandemic years from 2019 – 2022. I was an avid supporter of Community Supported Farmers (CSF).
Land Trusts Help Young Farmers
My farm family was a young couple with a growing family. They supplied me and their subscribers with a beautiful box of fresh farm produce with occasional surprises like local jam or sauces. And during the Pandemic, this enterprising family delivered the produce to our door.
A land trust conserves farmland and leases it to farmers in long-term leases as long as they fulfill the terms of the lease. Some leases can be as long as 99 years and inheritable. With some, farmers can gain equity for buildings and equipment they invested in farming the land leased. This can be passed on to relatives. Land trust have formed to specifically address inequities such as farmable land being bought by industrial farming operations that drive up the cost of land. Young farmers wanting to do the right thing by the soil, water, and air often cannot find land they can afford to buy. A lease with a Land Trust makes it possible. Black Soil KY is an innovative agribusiness model.
No-Till Growers: the Innovators
Young farmers and entrepreneurs put together podcasts about regenerative, no-till farming. I helped them with a start up grant from the government to provide educational videos for farmers to learn the art and practice of regenerating their farmland or market gardens. Today, this is a nationally recognized nonprofit business: No-Till Growers.
The Farmer
During these heavy, Pandemic years, I found hope in Kentucky farmers, especially the young farmers. Most could not afford to buy land and thus joining a Land Trust allowed them to lease land long term and even gain equity on it should they wish to pass it on to relatives.
My mind was on fire with stories I could write about a quiet revolution happening on farms with dreamers regenerating the soil. The outcome? A novel! The Last Farm on Lovers Lane is complete and I am now looking for a publisher. Below is an excerpt, protected by copyright law. Read it here.
CHAPTER 1
Belle Patterson
I parked the truck in the shade of a sprawling sugar maple. The redolence of warm soil and spice of wild grasses filled the cab as I rolled down the window. On this day I would continue an experiment on a worn out field on my grandfather’s property. Two centuries of extractive farming had depleted our farmland of its natural soil diversity. Teaming up with my friend Janelle, we were conducting a 2-year capstone project to restore the soil.
Stowing the instruments of my trade in a tool belt – spade, sample bags, soil test kit, thermometer, syringe, and Draeger tube – I headed for the field with anticipation. Kneeling in the spongy soil near the first metal cylinder, I inserted a needle into the aperture on the lid to draw a sample of air and pump it into a Draeger tube to measure the gas concentrations, recording them in a field notebook. Knowing the relative amounts of carbon dioxide, nitrogen, and oxygen, we could determine the health of the soil’s ecosystem. Next, I drove my spade into the dark loam for a sample. An earthworm oozed out.
“There you are earth-queen,” I whispered to the soil denizen. A drop of my sweat splashed onto its glistening skin causing the worm to contract and plunge out of sight. Small insects worried their bodies through the soil while a sow bug rumbled along my glove like an invertebrate Humvee. Under a hand lens, springtails were busy at life and ants went about their well-ordered societies. The soil community was reawakening.
Hours passed happily as I continued this process at each of the cylinders placed at intervals across the field. A flock of sparrows in the old maple chattered amicably. Engrossed in the process, I jumped when my flip phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Pops.
I walk daily on the campus of Tidewater Community College campus. I value the trees there and for the first three years of my new identity as a Virginian, I spent time learning about tree species and even collected seeds to see whether I might grow out an offspring. I have a lovely red maple (Acer rubrum) thriving on my porch and hope to give it away for replanting to a homeowner or the city or the college.
A couple days ago, I realized that one of the Shumard oak (Quercus shumardii) acorns planted two years ago, is growing with the shell broken open and a primary root emerging. This is a hardy, beautiful oak with rust red leaves in the fall. The acorns are abundant and have subtle blue stripe coloration. So, I hope to grow another native tree on my porch for giveaway where it can grow to maturity.
On the backside of the campus, on a triangular slice of urban forestland, I found a mature, towering Water Oak (Quercus nigra) is another native tree of the coastal lands especially in the Southeast coastal areas. You can spot it by its bell shaped leaf below. [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quercus_nigra#/media/File:Quercus_nigra_USDA.jpg]
In the same area, Black Walnut and Shagbark Hickory trees, and three species of pine trees flourished without traffic or grooming by tree trimming operations with limited knowledge of trees and the ecology of forest communities. I write this to lead up to my shock and sobbing at the sudden realization that in the winter and my walking that did not extend to this small wild wood, out of sight and out of mind, it was razed to the ground (thank God the water oak was left I am sure due to its size). Nothing was left of the wild wood and understory of plants and vines; rabbits and squirrels gone, and a host of birds who graced the canopies — all absent.
It was bare of life. I went to the water oak which has become a friend. I sobbed in front of it and let my deep sorrow be felt and my lament heard. Rage welled up in me at the senseless and unnecessary war we humans rage on nature, even when our city is heating up and trees provide shade. Species like the water oak help prevent flooding as our area is experiencing sea level rise from expansion of water due to an ocean hotter than at anytime in recorded history.
More than at anytime in our nation’s history, we must educate our children and youth about the basic ecology of their homeland so that they know it, value it, and will work to preserve what keeps us alive while we humans tinker with the environment to meet our needs.
A study using data from Sweden’s 23.5 million hectare forests from 1961 to 2018 shows declining nitrogen availability due to rising atmospheric CO2 concentration.
This process results in a decline in nitrogen deposition, slowing growth. This may decrease the “carbon sink” function of forests. Read the study below.
Affirmation of life is the spiritual act by which man ceases to live unreflectively and begins to devote himself to his life with reverence in order to raise it to its true value. To affirm life is to deepen, to make more inward, and to exalt the will to live.
Albert Schweitzer became my hero/mentor at an early age. The United Methodist Church library had a copy of a little book, “All Men Are Brothers” by Charlie May Simon. This is a very special book. Follow the link to purchase one of the remaining copies.
This introduction to Schweitzer seized my imagination. To live by one’s own inner thought and develop a life reflecting values you embrace — this has guided me all through my own Earth walk.
When I was in my early 30s, I read Out of My Life and Thought, which is Schweitzer’s memoir of the major events that informed him in his search for an ethical basis for living.
“The most immediate fact of man’s conscientiousness is the assertion ‘I am life that wills to live in the midst of life that wills to live.'”
The quote is found on page 156 in Chapter 13 of the 1990 edition of Out of My Life and Time, published by Henry Holt and Company, Inc.
With this assertion, a person can manifest their destiny. It is the basis from which decisions are made and a person manifests in thought, word and deed the realization of it as they may choose to live it.
Today we need to return, each of us and together as a nation, to affirm the values at the core of our actions, words, and dreams. Americans are challenged to find our true compass: what do we affirm as the ethical basis for our government?
We can then turn to the Declaration of Independence to examine its words, the basis on which it is realized: “We hold these truths as self evident that all men are created equal….”
But I would add that its time to embrace all life on earth as living relatives without which humankind cannot live. “I am life that wills to live in the midst of life that wills to live.”
We can thank the destructive forces let into the heart of Democracy for showing us the truth of our founding principles among which are consent of the governed and the rule of law.
We witness an attempt to overthrow our government by a despot and the foolish people who follow in his path. Mostly, it is a party of grievances against the restraints imposed by principles established at our founding. These establish how we treat each other and live together.
Individuals who throw off the restraining standards of behavior toward one another and detest those principles of decency, respect and caring for each other are tyrants.
Further, neglect of the Earth from devouring forces that eat at her heartwood, not only rob our children of a future but imperil all life on the planet.
Our collective culpability is grave.
Unbridled capitalism is on display in the highest offices of the land, elected by unknowing citizens concerned with the costs of living while forgetting our responsibility to elect leaders who are grounded in the virtues that our founders asserted as a restraint on the forces of tyranny.
Let us join the choir of truth tellers emerging everywhere as our nation awakens to what we have done: we let a fox into the henhouse. This is not political but our individual responsibility to conduct ourselves with respect for each other.
The preservation of our republic is of vital importance today for another reason: the mounting threat to life on Earth. We are a nation that has forgotten that we live here only by the grace of Earth’s living, breathing body and spirit. For too long we have plundered the Earth for coin.
And now we have put a despot at the helm when the Earth is teetering on massive changes which may not include life as we know it. The entire planet is in flux. Even when we watch our fellow Americans fleeing raging fires, epic floods and death, and temperatures that render farmlands barren, this despot denies even his own body and thus imperils all of us.
The first step out of this dilemma is to admit the truth of our present reality. From there, we must resist every attempt of the now unrestrained actions of a man filled with anger and hair-brained ideas detached from the truth.
We may at a time not too far from now have to make bold decisions and risk all to stop him and the hoard who follow hoping for power, money, or at least to duck his vicious nature. If we don’t, we’ll not appear in any history book as standing up for a nation of free people but for the fact that no one will be around to write that history.
Emerging Resources for Citizens Searching for Truth and Community:
“Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.” ― Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants (from goodreads)
“Our challenge is to create a new language, even a new sense of what it is to be human. It is to transcend not only national limitations, but even our species isolation, to enter into the larger community of living species. This brings about a completely new sense of reality and value.” (Thomas Berry, “The Ecological Age,” in The Dream of the Earth, 42). https://thomasberry.org/quotes/
Photo by Susan Feathers at Virginia Beach Botanical Garden Hydrangea Park
M. Scott Momaday, reading his poetry, A Man Made of Words.
To read or listen to powerful voices of people who have devoted their lives to celebrating the Earth is to heal and to find our way home. Each offers us solace and a direction for our lives as we anticipate times of destruction in America and around the world. Earth teaches us to live in community, to know each other and to be in reciprocal relationship with each other and all of life around us. I highly recommend these great teachers, each of whom has helped me understand a way forward in uncertain times. They offer hope and a longer point of view than ephemeral politics. They are an antidote to avarice. We need this deep resonance now to stabalize our spirits and our collective wish for unity, equality and peace.
Listening
Here is a brilliant conversation between Robin Wall Kimmerer and Emanuel Vaughn Lee of Emergence Magazine. Robin describes the wonderful serviceberry tree and what she has learned from its generosity. I also recommend Emergence Magazine for its films from artists and thought leaders across our great planet. I go there frequently to keep the balance.
“A reader lives a thousand lives before [s]he dies . . . The [hu]man who never reads lives only one.” ~ George R.R. Martin
Readers of this blog know that nature is a constant theme in my writing, reading and public work. We all have our roots plunged in soil we call home as did Lauren Groff, a magnificent writer who first found her inspiration at the family farm in New Hampshire.
Groff’s recent novels The Vaster Wilds and Matrix. pose profound questions about how religious and cultural practices have led to the depletion of nature’s resilience and how both men and women contribute to it when acting from an anthropocentric view. The journeys of discovery of both female protangonists is personal, imbued with hopes and dreams in the crucible of living their lives in times when women possess little social agency.
Groff is currently writing the third in the “triptych” of stories that carry the thread of inquiry and discovery. Readers are led to consider our present predicament of killing the very thing that gives us life: the living Earth.
Here are two excellent interviews that explore how Lauren Groff came to write each story, all the complex threads of thought, stories and influences that helped her conceive these outstanding novels.
The first interview explores The Vaster Wilds which takes place briefly in Jamestown colony in the “starving time”and mostly in the American wilds in 1609 North America.
The Matrix concerns Marie de France, the first published female poet in France, a poet and deep thinker whose writings are surprisingly free of social and religious strictures on women at a time of low female agency. Many sources contributed to the final story Groff tells. I found this instructive and supportive for writers of fiction.
This lecture from the University of Notre Dame is in my view the best exploration of how Matrix evolved and the exceptional thinking of one of America’s most brilliant writers of our time.
There is a music interlude to begin. Start of the Interview is 5 min. 23 sec
As a writer who shares the theme of nature I am so grateful to Lauren Groff for demonstrating the power of fiction to move us to understand the deep roots of our misunderstanding.
Susan Feathers 