When you write a blog, there is a tendency to write as if you know everything. You become the arbiter for all that is good, noble and right in the universe.
I’ve tried not to go down this metaphorical path, but it’s not always easy. We want to believe there’s always a right answer, but sometimes life is not that simple.
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When the first national parks were founded over a hundred years ago, there was an accompanying tension among the conservationists who helped create them. There were some conservationists who wanted the parks to be preserved in their pristine state. John Muir was perhaps the most famous of these early environmentalists. In contrast, there were other conservationists who wanted to make the parks accessible to the public. If more people enjoyed the parks and the open spaces, then same people would be more inclined to want to save these places from development. Nevertheless, being accessible to the public came with a cost.
At what point do the roads, cabins and access ways detract from the beauty and magic of natural places? As human beings, we have a way of altering the natural landscape for the worse. In the name of loving a place, we sometimes manage to destroy it.
This past weekend, I went to Habitat, my favorite Mass Audubon Sanctuary in Belmont, Massachusetts. In the interest of giving greater access to the Habitat to the elderly, to the handicapped and to people with strollers, they decided to pave over the trails.
What used to be this. . .
Taken In early October there are still leaves on the trees. You’ll note the trail on the bottom right of the picture.
Is being transformed into this. . .
You get the idea. The trees and foliage has been push back to accommodate a crushed stone path.
While I generally support access for the handicapped and the elderly, it was troubling to see these “improvements.” In my own opinion, it seemed misguided and wrong-headed. The augmented trails and walkways spoiled the natural beauty of this place. This world is filled with paved spaces, it seems to me that we need more unpaved spaces. When man places his mark on nature, we cannot help but make it “less than.”
Once upon a time, we had children in strollers. We walked around the malls and the neighborhoods with children in our stroller. We would have been the type of people who were intended to benefit from these kinds of improvements. Nonetheless, I would have been horrified if they had made these “improvements” on behalf of people like me.
[Ironically, the Mass Audubon has gone farther in the Habitat, than the town of Belmont (in which the Habitat resides). Much of Belmont, including significant portions of my own neighborhood, still do not have the benefit of sidewalks.]
Despite my misgivings and disappointment, I understand the counterargument. We should offer as much access to the outdoors to as many people as possible. When we give people access to nature and the outdoors, we’re giving them a taste of something beautiful. With their newfound appreciation for nature, hopefully these same people will care about conservation. We need to give people “use” of the outdoors, and part of giving them “use” is providing access.
I’m also strong believer that part of the problem with climate change and the environment is that too many people are disconnected from nature. When people are disconnected from nature, they are less likely to care about the destruction of the environment. We need to reconnect people to nature and perhaps creating paved paths and walkways is a small price to pay?
This is not an easy discussion and there are no easy answers. With regards to conservation, there is forever a kind of balancing act that takes place. Sometimes it’s hard to know if we’ve gotten it right. Too often it seems that progress and expediency are the chief considerations in the discussion around conservation. I concede that in expressing my own sadness about the development of these trails, maybe I’m totally wrong. Maybe I’m being shortsighted. Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.
Maybe this is the way of progress. . .or maybe not
