Hey tweets, As the rain pounds my house and I wonder if the wind is going to
blow down my favorite tree, my thoughts turn inward. Ruh roh, I can hear you
say, she can't get out birding so now she's going to subject us to her
thoughts. Quickly, quickly, hit delete.

Too late. Here goes (if you honestly think I've overstepped the boundaries
of tweeters subject matter, please let me know; I hope I have not and
believe that sharing thoughts about environmental protection does fit with
birding):

Julie Stonefelt and I have been conducting an email discussion about what
nature means to us and why we think it's so important to preserve the
environment. She told me that she loves having a sense of place and that
that is one thing that nature gives to her. She recommended three authors
whom she respects (Jack Turner, Terry Tempest Williams, and Gary Snyder).
Here is my reply to her (I warn you, it's long):

Dear Julie, I will definitely look for work by the authors you mention. I
must admit that it is a bit daunting that you spent a year thinking about
these issues, and in an academic setting to boot, and yet haven't been able
to come up with what Republicans insist we all need: eight words on a bumper
sticker. Maybe, as you suggest, the issues are way too complex for a bumper
sticker, even one as long as a paragraph. (I picture a bumper sticker that
would flap out behind my car like a line of old cans and boots announcing a
short but important idea like "Just Married.")

I speak somewhat tongue in cheek here, and yet I seriously fear that absent
the "eight-word bumper sticker" message, we will be unable to generate the
broad appeal needed to do something meaningful to preserve nature. That is
not to say that small, individual acts of preservation are less important.
On the contrary, I think it's very important for every single one of us to
recycle our paper and plastic waste, ride bikes, buy hybrid cars, use less,
re-use more, etc. But I also think that we need to act in concert too;
otherwise our collective small acts won't really matter. In order for us to
act regionally, nationally and internationally, we need broad levels of
understanding and comity. That is just what we lack.

Some say we will never develop this level of support for the environment
because people nowadays lack the ability or at least the inclination to
wrestle with complexity. Others say we just lack the time, and thus our
attention spans are too short. One of my writer friends told me we have USA
Today to thank for our ever-shortening attention spans. It is true that in
my 21 years as a freelance writer, my assignments have shortened from an
average of 2500 words to today's low of 750.

But I refuse to believe that people are incapable of understanding or
appreciating complexity. I think, like a good liberal, that we must call to
the best that is within all of us. By best, I mean the most altruistic, the
noblest, the least selfish. We live in a time when our leaders call to the
basest impulses that we all share. They seem to think that that's all we're
capable of responding to. But I disagree. I see too many examples of "random
acts of kindness" every day; acts that I interpret as an individual
expressing an impulse of generosity. If only we could multiply those
impulses and organize them into communal policies that benefited us all.

You speak of developing a sense of place as a life-long journey, and a good
one too. That statement resonates very strongly with me. I think, like you,
that being out in nature does give us the opportunity to take an inward
journey. But I wonder if you believe that embracing that attitude toward
life is one that most people share? Do we all like to go on a life-long
journey, or do we prefer finding a safe harbor as quickly as possible so we
can drop anchor and never, ever have to weather any more storms, or trips
where we get seasick, or journeys to places where we might feel out of place
and uncomfortable?

I suppose the answer is highly variable. Some of us like travel (in other
words, change) and some hate it. Some like travel when we're young (or old),
but not constant travel. The Montessorians say that children are
biologically prepared to change, and hence they love change. Maybe those of
us who like new ideas or deeper understanding are like puppies who never
really grow up. We're not more deeply human; we're just more immature.

If that's true, then I still want the largest possible pieces of nature and
the wild to be preserved and/or restored. Play should be just as important
as work. Walking around and seeing birds should be just as valuable as
chopping down trees and giving shareholders more return on their
investments.

Union organizers at the turn of the last century understood this: they wrote
a song called "Bread and Roses." Judy Collins sang it on one of her albums:

As we go marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too. - Connie,
Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com