Guilt of a Guide Book Author

Dear B & V,

Have I contributed to the degradation of this place I’ve loved for so long? Maybe degradation is a hyperbole but this word expresses the depth of my feelings. However in reality, my favorite park hasn't been destroyed nor do I have the hand of god to cause her degradation. 

Change has occurred though to her natural space to alter my feelings about this place. Now when I hike the intimacy of her valley walls, my feelings turn to sadness, frustration and disappointment. Where once there was a single track hugging her stream banks, there is now a network of trails that spider, interlacing each other up and down her walls. Where once the species that make her valley home, she is now invaded by our lazy, man-made foot paths cutting through her living room. Where once there were blue, blazed trees standing erect adjacent to her trails, they are now toppled by the compaction of hundreds of daily tread strikes on her soil. Where once numerous wildflowers carpeted her understory, there now lay acres of invasives. Where once a few cars waited for their drivers, the lot now overflows. Where once she was a secret to few, now she is known to many. 

I hurt to hike her valley where once she brought me much joy; joy that I shared with you, other children, my students and the world in a book. My intentions were good. I desired to spread joy with parents to help them connect with their children and nature, with students in hopes a natural spark became embedded, and with my community to help them find peace amongst her colors and sounds as they moved their bodies through her. 

So much of her landscape has changed in the last eighteen years when I first began hiking here with you. I meandered her single track to calm my new mother nerves; first, to calm your incessant crying and then, to sooth postpartum depression that sank my soul. Through her, I found peace, awe and reverence that has lasted and transcends to all landscapes, creating an earthlover in me. But now I hike here often, alone with my head full of negativity as I can’t see past the degradation of my fellow species to the beauty that still lies within her.  What do I do with these conflicting feelings of awe and reverence and sadness, frustration and disappointment?

I've known personally and professionally for many years that nature has the power to transform people's indifference to that of nurturing. This was recently reinforced on Marketplace when Kai Ryssdal interviewed Eric Artz, the CEO of REI. Artz stated, "But I would say, Kai, that this is equally about enlightening a life outdoors for our customers, because we know and we believe that people that participate, people that recreate, will care for the places that they recreate." While I continue to agree with this sentiment, I wonder how much time does a person have to spend in nature, generally or in a particular place, for the caring to commence in whatever way. I wonder if marketing the outdoors, in all its forms, has caused overcrowding in our conserved landscapes. I wonder when does thinking about "we", all living species of a space, become the primary versus the "me" seeking nature for our personal needs and pleasures. Can the marketing for the "me" create a better "we"?

Love & peace,

Mom