Coastline Pilot/LA Times

23 April 2004

 

Chasing the Muse

Catharine Cooper

 

Hey!  The ugly metal fencing at the top of Crystal Cove State Park adjacent to the 73 TCA is gone!  Hooray for the concerted efforts of Barbara Norton, Eric Jessen, James Brown and the Irvine Company.  Hooray for the deer who now will be able to utilize the wildlife corridor, built for their safe passage, without being impaled against barbed wire in a tight turn, which surfaced as a side effect of Newport Coast’s development of the ridgeline.  Hooray for the additional dedication of parkland property, an unexpected benefit.  The restoration of this passageway stands as a testament to tenaciousness, and a commitment to wildlife protection.

 

The statement, “Who speaks for Earth?” keeps rolling around in my head.  In the best of circumstances, we all do.  It is our voices, translated through our actions, which make small differences each and every day.  A simple decision of where to toss a spent piece of gum either soils a sidewalk or fattens a trashcan.  The choice of appropriate disposal of paints, oils and solvents can prevent poisonous runoff from fouling our precious seashore.  A healthy recycling program aids in the reduction of burgeoning landfills.

 

Maybe a more intimate relationship with our cosmic home would remind us of our role.  Something akin to what Annie Dillard (Pilgram at Tinker Creek) encountered as she wandered her backyard on her hands and knees, discovering creatures that lived within the tangle of her weeds.  Maybe it’s like the sect of Buddhist who rarely moves for fear of killing something with their weight.  Well, maybe that’s gone farther than I can bear, and certainly, it would ruin my hiking process.  Although I am mindful of stinkbugs, and I pick up stray caterpillars from the middle of backcountry trails and deposit them in tall grasses, safely away from heavy foot traffic and the fat wheels of speeding bikes.

 

A journey into the heart of the earth’s wild places is a perfect catalyst for dialogs about resource protection and environmental consciousness, for it is in the wilderness that we are able to listen to the language of our soul.  During my recent journey down the Grand Canyon, conversations circled around the pristine river corridor and the shared responsibility for its continued existence.  The word stewardship was floated, replete with its weight of leadership in actions and deeds.  Who are the stewards of the earth?

 

Again, it falls upon our own shoulders.  Our sandy shores, our open space, and our neighborhood parks are our own responsibility.  The communities that live within them – both flora and fauna – are given into our care.  We look to the city for maintenance, but the consciousness that fuels our co-existence is our own to foster and expand.

 

Today’s political landscape is a tenuous one for protection of what wild lands remain.  Pressure for oil drilling, mineral rights and heavy foresting threaten nearly every national park, and this is not only in the United States.  We in Laguna have an intimate relationship with saving open space.  Our greenbelt is the envy of most in the county, and is well traveled by those who live outside of our city.  Imagine, a housing tract, a strip mine or an oil well smack dab in the midst of Laguna Wilderness Park.  The thought turns my stomach.  I hope it does the same to yours.

 

Each day we are confronted with a list of difficulties that challenge both our resources and our abilities to embrace them all.  We have urban runoff that renders our oceans unsafe for swimming.  We have airline flight patterns that press planes too close to our homes.  Fireplace smoke chokes our evening air.   Light pollution has stolen the heart from the depths of the night sky.

 

How do we tackle them all?  One small step, one concerted effort at a time.  Simple things:  pick up your own and others trash.  Consider the ocean as you wash down your drive or dump foul water in the drain.  Be conscientious of trail use in the backcountry.  Buy and use ‘green.’  Recycle.  Compost. Think of the long-term environmental ramifications of each choice that you make.

 

Aldo Leopold writes, in his For the Health of the Land, “No one can write a plan for accomplishing something until the reasons for desiring to accomplish it are defined.”  Make a list of things you and your family can do to enhance your own neighborhood.  Then make a plan.  Let’s compare notes.  Let’s see what we can do together.

 

Catharine Cooper loves wild places.  She can be reached at ccooper@cooperdesign.net or 949 497 5081.