Response 11: Farewell Nature Writing!

I learned a lot from this class.  First and foremost, that no matter how much I learn about nature, I don't know a thing--I can only speculate, wonder, and hope.  Speculate on what nature is, wonder what it means, and hope that I'm connected to it somehow.  I also learned that I love W.S. Merwin and Janisse Ray, that Mary Oliver's really not so bad, and that Edward Abbey and James Wright are writing about a different world than I am (for the life of me, I still can't grasp what they're getting at!).  However, I'm glad we had such a diverse set of texts to read--I feel like nature was shown to me through a kaleidoscope, at different angles and fragments that came together to enrich my overall sense of the natural world.  It was nice to see and hear so many different styles of writing, attitudes, genres, strategies, and especially, voices.  I loved Gretel Ehrlich's approach to open spaces, Merwin's rendering of trees, Ray's structure of alternating personal story and research, and of course, Pattiann Rogers's answer to the question: what is nature?  After all this, I don't believe I've necessarily come closer to understanding what nature is, but rather, I've discovered more questions than answers, double the wonder for every bit of knowledge, and an eagerness to learn, uncover, experience.  To me, this is even more valuable.

In the future, I'm certain the experiences I've had in this class will influence my approach to the natural world, both in personal experience and writing.  I've already mentioned some of the influence the texts themselves had on me--but I think in many ways the place blog had the largest impact.  It was daunting to focus on one area for so long without sounding redundant, and still finding meaning in nature--especially when nothing obvious or exciting was happening.  But of course, no matter how small, something is always happening.  And if nothing's happening, you can write about that.  There is always something to write about.  This experience reinforced my belief that there's no such thing as writer's block, and made me look deeper than I knew I could look, and never would have otherwise, and so I am thankful for that.  I also enjoyed our trips to Eden Hall Farm and Nine Mile Run, despite my aversion to cold, rain, mud, and virtually anything that forces me to rise before noon.  It was great to contribute to the wildflower garden, even if it's a one-time thing in my life--and as miserable as the weather was, it was nice to plant trees and know we were making a difference.  Also, the research this spawned was intriguing, and really opened my eyes to the myriad benefits of tree-planting.

Overall, the only suggestion I have for the class at this time is the possibility of also studying the fiction genre with regards to nature writing.  This is an odd suggestion coming from me, because fiction is the one genre I don't currently write and am not as excited about--but I think it might be beneficial for those who are primarily studying and writing fiction (and are not as comfortable reading and writing essays or poetry), as well as those, like me, who aren't--that way we'd all be in the same boat.  I can see why nonfiction and poetry might provide most often the richest nature writing, given their focus on the real world (at least, more often than not for poetry).  But I would be interested to see if there is any good fiction based on the natural world.  I would imagine that any perspective or take on the subject can only add to our understanding, our questioning, our wonder.