Nature teaches us simplicity and contentment, because in its presence we realize we need very little to be happy. Since we are part of the animal kingdom, our senses are naturally more alive in the outdoors. The rustle of leaves or the rapid flight of birds could indicate the presence of a mountain lion or bear. Hiking in places where we are not the only predator¹ helps us understand that all of life is intimately interwoven and that we are a part of that web.

— Mark Coleman, “A Breath of Fresh Air“

Morning Report: Mushrooms that looked like pancakes laying on top of the grass.

Then, the most amazing thing. There is a little fenced garden next to Manning Hall. A small hedge blooming with small white flowers pads the inside of the fence all the way around. This morning there were SO MANY Eastern Tiger Swallowtails² eating from these flowers. The hedge appeared decorated with living ornaments—yellow and black wings with luscious blue at the bottoms fluttering everywhere. If you looked deeper, past the butterflies—which was difficult—there were even more bumblebees moving around in there.

A plasma display window?—The shifting baseline problem in a technologically mediated natural world
Peter H. Kahn Jr., Batya Friedman, Brian Gill, Jennifer Hagman, Rachel L. Severson, Nathan G. Freier, Erika N. Feldman, Sybil Carrère and Anna Stolyar
Journal of Environmental Psychology, Volume 28, Issue 2, June 2008, Pages 192-199.

ABSTRACT: Humans will continue to adapt to an increasingly technological world. But are there costs to such adaptations in terms of human well being? Toward broaching this question, we investigated physiological effects of experiencing a HDTV quality real-time view of nature through a plasma display “window.” In an office setting, 90 participants (30 per group) were exposed either to (a) a glass window that afforded a view of a nature scene, (b) a plasma window that afforded a real-time HDTV view of essentially the same scene, or (c) a blank wall. Results showed that in terms of heart rate recovery from low-level stress the glass window was more restorative than a blank wall; in turn, a plasma window was no more restorative than a blank wall. Moreover, when participants spent more time looking at the glass window, their heart rate tended to decrease more rapidly; that was not the case with the plasma window. Discussion focuses on how the purported benefits of viewing nature may be attenuated by a digital medium.

Last night: I was not consciously nervous about today’s phone interview, but some part of my brain was because it would not let me get to sleep and stay asleep. When I was asleep I dreamed about scanning down a column of series headings in Excel. I got maybe 4 hours.

Today: Tired. Only needed to work 4.2 hours, but I went in at normal time to do other stuff while present in case of bibliographic emergency. As the interview time drew nearer my body started having full on anxiety symptoms. Nausea, heart rate up, lips numb, dizzy, feeling of floating above my own head going, “Oh come on body, you are going to talk to people you work with every day and impress on a regular basis. Just stop these shenanigans.” I did some sitting with my breath, but honestly, I don’t think that helps very much. It just heightens the physical sensations of anxiety for me. Or maybe I just don’t do it right. Anyway, the interview was not terrible, but I was frustrated with myself for feeling inarticulate and rambly, and for forgetting to make a couple of points I had down on my notes sheet. Was so jangled afterward, trying to shush the “you screwed that up” fear, that it took me the rest of the afternoon to copy catalog a website.

Read in McCorkle Place for a while, then had dinner with a friend at Pepper’s. He dropped me off at Forest Theater, where I was headed to see Paperhand Puppet Intervention’s Islands Unknown. Going in, I saw the most beautiful dog. It did not look like a Great Dane to me, but its nose probably would have hit the lower part of my chest. It was lanky and glossy black. It struck me such that I told the man walking it, “That’s the most beautiful dog I’ve ever seen.” Went in, immediately spied a friendly acquaintance from circulation, waved, sat down, and then was invited down to sit with him and my ophthalmologist and his family. Just as the show was starting another friend who has been out of town came in and sat right in front of us.

Favorite parts:

• a real butterfly at the edge of the stage when the books in the library became butterflies
• the book on the library shelf pushing itself out to get the girl’s attention
• the cat puppet
• shouting ENOUGH!
• bats flying around overhead
• the information overload puppet
• the movement of the ocean puppet
• the real moon rising up at the back of the theater, opposite the stage moon

Wednesday a friend and I were talking about how Paperhand’s message can be boiled down to “Nature good, Man bad.” That’s a view I can definitely get behind most days, when I witness and hear about humans being bad, bad animals all over the world. There is definitely a Paperhand formula. You know what to expect from one of their shows. But the execution is always different and wonderful. My sense of this show was that it was less “Nature good, Man bad” and more “Nature good, Man part of nature, Man who could be in more balance with nature but chooses not to move toward balance bad.”

On Wednesday, I noticed someone had scratched some moss off a rock. I got so angry. This hatred welled up for whoever thoughtlessly put their desire to make a mark on something ahead of the fact that a tiny plant was growing there, being alive and doing its thing. It billowed out to include the people who mulched over the tiny trees in April, and those who dumped the disgusting ugly mulch over the moss growing in my small front yard area in January and planted shrubs that are now dead. I got to a moment of wondering why we couldn’t just leave things alone and wishing I could avoid causing the demise of any living thing, before reminding myself that I don’t want to have to hack through dense vegetation to get into my house, that I do love McCorkle Place, which is an entirely groomed artificial “nature,” and that I cannot abide a mouse-sized spider running amok in my kitchen. As I said to my friend Wednesday, “It is so hard to avoid being a big hypocrite in this culture.”

I mean, how many carbon credits does the creation and run of a Paperhand show eat up, between hauling materials and puppets, people traveling to rehearsal and performances, lighting (that confuses night flying creatures) and sound amplification, etc.? Less than many less worthwhile things, I’m sure, but still.

1. When I hear a person claim to be “top of the food chain,” I want to transport them to the wilderness with nothing but their wits and see how superior they feel. [↩]
2. I identified the species tonight using my new favorite website: http://www.discoverlife.org/ [↩]

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