Nature Writing

As the leaves start to change color around me, I can’t help but think about my home. Having a house placed next to the highway 9A does not sound like the most ideal location for most people, but I don’t mind it. Trees create a natural barrier that separates the busy road from our yard. Behind the house is a woody area with a downslope leading to a cemetery. Two medium-size trees that have grown to almost the height of the house stand in front. My favorite time of year has always been autumn. The warm colors make me feel comfortable and tranquil. 

My dog can sit outside for hours and be perfectly content. The birds and rabbits don’t bother him; he doesn’t chase them away, so they join him in the yard. Looking out from a window at the scene, I feel the need to go out and join them. Most people would complain about the traffic’s noise, but I don’t even hear it; it is drowned out by the beautiful visuals near me. I feel privileged that I have access to this view so easily. I watch in admiration when my dog eventually gets up to walk around. Sometimes he only gets up to move to a different spot on the grass, which is cute except for when it is 2:00 in the morning. 

When the leaves fall down to create piles in the grass it feels bittersweet: while the piles of leaves look so beautiful, I am also reminded that this time of year is coming to an end. Now that I am at Geneseo, over five hours from home, I can look out into the beyond at the landscape with the colorful trees and feel at home. —Nicole

My dorm room in Niagara Hall is in an interesting location. It is nearly adjacent to the soccer field, so my roommate and I have the wonderful pleasure of being able to hear anything that goes on within and around the boundaries of the stadium. On Saturday mornings, I am woken up by music being blasted through the speaker system—it’s the same couple of songs, over and over and over. To be completely honest, I don’t even set an alarm anymore, because I know what’s coming. On weekday nights and afternoons, the jarring sounds of whistles and shouts become background noise to the millions of thoughts running through my mind. The little league soccer teams are going at it, the once-calm parents suddenly becoming crazed fans who cheer on their child’s every move. I can hear all of it… and usually, I can ignore it, tune it out. But sometimes, every once in a blue moon, when I’ve got nothing else on my mind except for empty thoughts about the future, I tune in.

Listening to the soccer field is weird because there’s a whole world down there that I’m not a part of. Some kid just scored a goal, and the crowd is going wild and the announcer is screaming “What a shot!” and I’m just sitting on my bed, unable to match these sounds to any one view. The soccer field is a movie without a screen, without images—it’s just audio, because of the line of trees that blocks my view. So I sit there on my bed and listen to the Geneseo soccer team practice, listen to their coach shout out drills and listen to the shrill whistle, and I can’t help but be reminded of when I was in 6th grade, and was the star of the soccer team. Times were simpler, more innocent. I went to school the next day after a game and bragged to my friends about the goal I scored, and they all looked at me like I was some kind of celebrity. Me! But now I am one of thousands, shuffling from class to dorm, a small fish in a big pond… happy with where I am, but wistful for the days that once were. —Anne

My favorite part of Geneseo’s campus is the outdoor basketball court on north campus. The court’s tread is blue, and the nets on several of the baskets are shredded. The court’s location is close enough to the dorms to feel like it is part of campus, yet close enough to the athletic fields and woods to make a game of basketball feel more natural and relaxing compared to the same game indoors. The sunlight outdoors can warm one up on a cool day, and the wind can cool one off on a warm day. The best part of the entire experience is the sunsets I see while playing. 

This court holds personal significance that predates my application to Geneseo. During my first visit here, I had few standards by which I judged colleges: campus layout, the quality of dorms,  the quality of dining halls and recreational opportunities. The blue-top court first caught my attention when I toured the school in the Fall of 2018. It was close to a lot of residence halls and I specifically remember telling my parents that the court would be the factor that made me choose this school. 

Fast Forward to my first day at Geneseo… as fate would have it, I ended up at the outdoor basketball court. Had I not played on that court the first weekend, I would not have met some of my best friends here. The outdoor court will always hold a special place in my heart; the fact that I can go there and always make new friends speaks to the importance of sports and the reach basketball has beyond being just a game. That–and the aforementioned reasons–is why the outdoor court is my favorite place on campus.

Throughout high school, I have dedicated most of my time volunteering with special needs individuals. I had the privilege to work with a six-year-old girl who, when she saw another child on a field trip, would run up and quickly announce her name, take out all of the toys she had brought with her, and begin to play with the child she had just met. I also worked with a teenager having limited verbal skills, who nevertheless was able to give you the best hugs and root for you better than a cheerleader ever could. I volunteered at Camp Anchor, where an adult would greet me every time with a handshake: “How was your day?” “How are you feeling?” What I have observed throughout my time volunteering is that in the life skills community, kindness is not just a simple “one and done” type deal; it is a way of life. All these people that I have mentioned live their lives through love, and have a surplus of love to give to every person they encounter. Their kindness is sustainable, maintained at such a high level not only as children, but through adolescents and adulthood as well.

Self-care, like the environment, is not solely dependent on the direct influences in your surroundings. Flowers do not bloom where there are no seeds planted. They are spread through the pollination of bees or the animals around them. Once finding their homes in the soil or water, it is the care and conditions of the soil, air, water, and overall nature that helps form the full plant. The sustainability of kindness acts similarly. Children are like the bees and animals, the care and conditions. Once you come in contact and experience the love of the life skills community, you begin to grow. I honestly feel that if we all adopted kindness as a way of life, the world would be a better place. –Hannah

What is it about nature writing that reminds me of geography? Geography is a discipline I have come to love as a student at Geneseo. It has opened my eyes and made me fall in love with the environment around me and has therefore given me a greater appreciation for earth and its hidden beauty. But what is geography? Simply put, it is a multifaceted discipline that connects humans to the world and vice versa. It analyzes the physical side of the world as well as its human, social side. As I was choosing courses for this semester, I was informed to take the introductory writing seminar that the college requires. I wanted to take a course that I would be able to understand and find passion in as I did with my other geography courses. The one interrelated idea I can take away from both nature writing and geography is the interconnectedness with nature and the human population–how nature is in everything. It’s everywhere you look, from the trees to the cellphone in your hand to the sidewalk you walk on. In this is a sense of discovery for what it’s like to be on the other side of nature: to be able to see the world’s relationships from the human eye. The human connection to nature is undeniably positive nor negative as it influences the way nature behaves. As humans we often overlook this phenomenon since it is so common and mundane in daily life, but I encourage everyone to take a step back and appreciate the way nature and humans interact in the everyday environments surrounding us. We should be inclined to find the deeper meaning of nature while appreciating its beauty. The ability to deeply define and relate these experiences and relationships to living an interconnected life through nature writing is an amazing skill that I am sure to take with me long after this semester is finished. –Gabby N.

This summer I found myself spending most of my weeks in Laguna Beach, California. Originally, I was going to write this post about the beach and all the clichés that come with it, but rarely do we write about the endless freeways, the express lanes that somehow still manage to get backed up, or the days where the mountains can’t be seen in the smog.

Out of curiosity, I looked up the directions from my mom’s house in Redlands to Laguna. She lives 60 miles away, so ideally it should take an hour of driving to get there, or much less if you drive 85 mph until you see a cop. But in true Southern Californian fashion, as of 6:35 AM Pacific, it takes an hour and 53 minutes to get to Laguna on the CA-91. It takes two hours and 16 minutes on the I-10.

With my driving record, I rarely drove, which left me with hours of staring at charred trees from one of the many forest fires on the toll roads to Irvine. The traffic extended to the toll roads. Imagine paying to sit in traffic. The canyon into Laguna is much worse: the two-lane highway narrows into one lane, and suddenly everyone forgets how to merge. But the canyon is also one of the prettier sights on the drive through, its dried grass giving off a golden glow. I always try to reach for the sunflowers on the side of the road, but I have yet to succeed. 

It would be a lie to say I don’t mind the traffic, but I can appreciate it slowing down my life just enough to look at things I normally speed past. –Tanya

Roemer Arboretum, on South Side, is a wonderful place to visit on campus. The peace one feels when walking through the densely wooded path is hard to put into words. Although this peace is felt by us, it is not felt by the plant growth. Recently, the forests in and around the Geneseo campus have been facing a problem–invasive species. These plants and animals have slowly been eating away at the shrubbery in New York, and killing off the native species of the region. From emerald ash borers to the hemlock woolly adelgid, the list goes on and on. One species that is an evident problem, especially in the Arboretum, is called “Morrow’s honeysuckle”. Native to Asia, it was brought here purposely as “an ornamental plant, for erosion control, and for wildlife forage and cover”. However, it ended up taking over areas, out-competing the native plants and becoming a dense cover on the forest floor.

A call to action was recently announced, and students on the Geneseo campus were asked to help remove these invasives from the Arboretum. Taking up the opportunity, my peers and I were supplied with tools and started the cleanup. This process was not easy; the plants were about my height and had thick roots that clung to the soil. The seeds on the plant were an issue too: sharp needles on their outer covering clung onto my shirt firmly. Eventually, after our grueling cleanup, the area was empty, and we were able to replant this land with small native species. This part was calming, and being able to transfer these fragile plants into little holes we dug was satisfying. The hard work we did paid off, and we were able to step back and look at this new “garden” we created, which will hopefully last for a while. We then lightly covered the area in mulch and called it a day.

Being involved with this cleanup opened my eyes to the fact that students on campus need to take action with problems, whether they be minor or major. Although we replanted a small portion of the Arboretum, this is a step towards the complete removal of invasive species and a return to a more natural environment. I’m hoping to involve myself further in another cleanup in the future, and I urge every student to do the same. –Carlo Tobia

When you first lay eyes on your SUNY Geneseo adventure, you will likely be seeing the south side of campus, where most freshmen live: Onondaga, Niagara, Wayne, Suffolk, and Nassau halls. But have you ever wondered where everyone from all those places congregate to get to the other side of campus? The answer is a tale of three paths, marked by a big rock on the side by Onondaga and a lamp post by the side of Niagara Hall. During the day students rush out and about, converging near the three paths and heading to class. During the afternoon you might see them walking towards Milne to study or going to Letchworth to grab some food. At night they return to their respective halls down one of the three paths, marking the end of a day.

When I first settled in to the south side of campus, I couldn’t help but notice how the big path from the townhouses splits off to three paths. Now, from outside my window at Niagara Hall, I wake up every morning to a seagull perched outside. From August onwards, the seagull has accompanied me from its perch on a lamp post. As strange as that sounds, I feel it as a special gift. Another lies directly across from that very lamp post, where a giant rock and a row of trees dot the landscape, welcoming people to the south side: all of them are identical, planted right beside the left path which leads to Onondaga. The trees line up well with one another down the path, leading students out of south side and waiting to greet them with as they come back. The big rock right beside the point—where the three paths meet—is a place to take stunning pictures of Onondaga field and to meet up with friends on their way to classes or lunch. But it’s also home to small insects, too small for the human eye to see. This brings me to the last gift: the three paths foster a community like no other. People from all the halls converge here, and that is where I saw new friends playing ultimate frisbee who invited me to play. These might just be three simple paths and three simple gifts, but they have laid the foundation for my Geneseo experience. I put my best foot forward and everything else has followed.

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