Month: September 2019

Recently a friend recommended to me that I watch a movie titled The Revenant; it is based on a true story of an American frontiersman named Hugh Glass who was left for dead by his fur-trapping party after he was mauled by a bear. The movie follows his journey through the American wilderness in the winter, surviving off the land with nothing more than a canteen and his knife, fighting off Native American tribes, wildlife, and frostbite. This story takes place in the early-mid 1800s, when most of the midwest and west were pure and free from human interaction. The cinematography in this movie alone had me in awe; the director filmed in Canada, the US, and Argentina, on the natural landscape in the mountains and forests. The movie consistently contrasts the gruesome, dirty toils of Glass’ journey through the American frontier to wide shots of the stunning and peaceful mountain ranges and forests, at one point, including a shot of Glass trekking a barren plain covered in snow with the enormous mountains towering in the background. I find that this scene is obviously meant to display just how miniscule humans and their impact was before the industrialization of the United States. Since watching this film, I sincerely have taken moments to reflect on how different life is today, and how easy life is today in terms of obtaining food, water, and safety. I absolutely love this movie and 100% recommend it to anyone who would like to take a trip back in time to when humans lived very literally off the land and were but a blip in the vast beauty of America’s natural world. To put it simply: The Revenant rocked my world. –Elyse

Curled up with my laptop in the soft gray pods above Starbucks, I see students tucked into corners, straining their eyes to their laptop screens. With the shades drawn over the large picture windows, I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been cooped up with my laptop. The people sitting nearby were here before me and have not moved the slightest bit; I can’t help but think about how unhealthy this is. How, on a Saturday, there are students occupying nearly every seat. Maybe it’s because this is my first year at college and I’m only a month in and don’t understand how much work there truly is, but I do know the impact of unhealthy habits created by the pressure of doing well in school on our mental health. Finally stepping out of my curled position and stretching out my legs, my muscles jolt awake and I decide to head up to Main Street to grab some dinner. While immersed in the waft of my pizza from Mama Mia’s, I look up and find my eyes set ablaze to the setting sun. The horizon is cluttered with clouds but the sun insists to be seen. From behind, its radiating hues burst behind and shine upward. They spread high above and mesh pink and orange to the blue sky. I run down the hill from ISC to Sturges and I sit at the tables by the Gazebo with my pizza and breathe, bracing for the upcoming week. –Charis

The glow of the moon was faint, yet still predominantly illuminated the night sky. Lying down upon the grassy field can really put your world into a new perspective, gazing up into the night sky. Despite the moon’s hazy presence, you are persistent enough to wait outside on the cold ground to watch as the transparent clouds roll by to reveal distant stars. From your frame of reference, you can easily spot each beautiful constellation, seeming to waltz throughout the sky. Back at home, such patterns couldn’t even dare to be seen in the sky; light pollution was prominent from where you came from. Nevertheless, you feel the loving presence of the stars around you, knowing all too well that you are not alone.

I had the opportunity to go stargazing with my new friends at SUNY Geneseo, and let me just say it was the best college experience I have had by far. My friends and I wandered the dark campus, only guided by the faint light of the moon. We walked to the edge of the track and field, making our way to the darkest spot possible. My eyes were glued to the sky, anxiously waiting to see the first stars through the clouds. Sitting upon the cold grass is when it hit me, Vega was shining bright in the sky between a mess of trees and clouds. Little by little, more and more stars started peeking out from behind their transparent barriers. As I lay there with my friends, these stars started to form constellations. Cassiopeia, Andromeda, Pisces, Aquarius–they all danced throughout the sky. You could see the planets amidst the stars, and if you had a good eye, there was no doubt you would see a few shooting stars passing by. The sky was endless, signifying the infinite vast universe we are fortunate enough to exist in.

Sitting outside makes you think about how little you are compared to the rest of the known universe, but even going away to school so far from home gives you an idea of how vast our world is. This was one of many stargazing trips I can’t wait to watch in the future at SUNY Geneseo. –Nicole

Comfort is something we as people strive for, looking for ways to implement it into our lives any chance we get. Going from our lives filled with the discomfort that comes with our busy schedules. It infests our thought through the majority of the day: the want of escaping the bilious feeling of cold industrial white lights that beat on you at a trip to the grocery store, or a tedious office job. The sublime transition from this to the orange glow of the sun that fills you with warmth instead of anxiety, the subtle laughter of your mind as the blades of grass tickle your bare feet, is to many people much more comforting. Filling your house with shelves stocked with processed foods and appliances that help you be more efficient has its own significant impact on a busy life. But finding ways to merge this uncomfortable schedule with one filled with nature as well is simple. Even if that small amount of comfort is just a lonely cactus digging its roots into the inches of soil signifying its home, providing you with its natural shape, and comfort of feeling connected with nature, even if it’s minimal. What do you do in your life to implement nature’s comfort? –Soy

Climate change has become a term that nearly everyone is familiar with. Many times, humans contemplate whether or not they are doing enough to help fight climate change; I know that I do. One way that I have never fully considered was going vegan. I always thought of veganism as something you did for solely the love of animals. But after a recent conversation with my aunt, who happens to be vegan, my viewpoint has shifted. Becoming vegan is the number one way a single human can reduce their carbon footprint. At first, this surprised me; I mean, what about owning a Tesla, right? Wrong. Livestock is humans’ number one contributor to the world’s carbon footprint. It takes 2,400 gallons of water to produce just 1 pound of beef; meanwhile, a pound of whole wheat only needs 180 gallons to be produced.

There are many other interesting connections between the idea of veganism and climate change of which I was unaware. Many of us now have heard of the plastic straw and bag bans happening around the globe, and the pollution in our oceans. Many vegans have pondered this thought because of its subtle irony: we are worried about our pollution killing sea life, while we kill millions of fish every day for consumption. One aspect of veganism that I can personally connect myself to is the burning of the Amazon Rainforest for agricultural purposes. I was lucky enough to have traveled to the Amazon. While there, I realized that we could be responsible for destroying this magnificent ecosystem because of meat. –Sam

The landscape was nothing I haven’t seen before: a packed parking lot, some trees, a playground with children running around, screaming. I advanced from the car toward the break in the forest and made my way up the cracked uneven path. The sounds of playful children and cars roaring by on the highway quickly began to fade as I made my way deeper and deeper into the path.  The steps were built and carved from large pieces of stone that were far different, and stronger than the shale that made up the walls of the gorge. The stream just inches from my feet flowed leisurely by with no rush to escape the small and narrow gap in the rock. I come to a small bridge over the stream, the sounds of civilization are nothing but a distant memory. I cross. Just around the bend, I am left speechless. Stony Brook Falls. I remove my hiking boots and step into the stream, allowing the cool refreshing water to surround my feet. I set down my day pack and roll up the bottoms of my khaki shorts, each step now drawing me closer and closer to the fresh white water calmly rolling down the stacked rock of the cliff. Waist deep now and numb, my temptation to advance grows with each step. Now, just inches from the falls, wide-eyed and blue lipped, I allow my back to press against the jagged rock beyond the falls and feel the cold water run through my hair and down my face. Suddenly, the cold is no longer bothersome. The experience is all that matters. –Sabrina