I am an Arizona girl, born and raised, and I hated it. I hated the heat, the dryness, and the deadness around me constantly as I grew up. Any chance we got, we went traveling to other places. (Places with greenery and life, whoo!) I got hooked on the countryside, the smell of the ocean, and the visually appealing imagery of green trees and grass that don’t come in bundles. I guess you could say I was raised a city girl, with a country girl’s heart. So, when I moved to Massachusetts three years ago, it was like I finally felt peace, and found my place. (The newly formed allergies weren’t a very welcome gift though, thanks Mass.) I digress, I feel like my ‘place’ growing up was in Arizona, just because it’s what I knew. The ‘place’ my heart desired was somewhere with an ocean, trees, life, and a more progressive, LGBTQ+ forward community that celebrated diversity as much as I did.
Arizona Desert
Gooseberry Island, MA
See what I mean?!
Anyways, onto the readings. Do we need ‘wildness’? Kingslover states: “Wildness puts us in our place. It reminds us that our plans are small and somewhat absurd. It reminds us why, in those cases in which our plans might influence many future generations, we ought to choose carefully (pbs.org).” I would argue that yes, we do, but the terminology of ‘wildness’ may differ from person to person. I have met many classmates who look at me and say ‘why on earth would you move here? I would love living somewhere with no snow!’ (Arizona has snow, in certain areas, but that’s besides the point.) I think the understanding of wildness really comes down to that person, their nature vs. nurture and upbringing, as well as where their soul really longs to go. Wildness is everywhere, joking aside, Arizona has some gorgeous areas to enjoy as well. I feel that describing wildness in only one way, with one certain set of areas, or a singular are in mind, is not taking into account the intersectionality of our own uniqueness.
A lot of how I described finding my place, plays into the similar descriptions of William’s article. Willams talks about how green is pleasing to the eye, that reminds us of oxygen, breathing and a place of serenity against the bareness of drier landscapes. However, Willams also explains how the desert is crucial to our history, and how it endured and persevered through droughts and other atrocities to befall it, it can be seen as a standing structure of survival, endearing to most. “…this is not hard to understand: falling in love with a place, being in love with a place, wanting to care for a place and see it remain intact as a wild piece of the planet (Williams, 16).” Jut because an area is not your ‘place’, does not make it any less deserving of protection. Your place may be in the desert, where mine is by the ocean. Regardless of where your heart soars, our planet is in dire need of some TLC, and we have to be the ones to nourish it respectfully. The bedrock democracy comes down to owning your part to care for this planet, and love all aspects of it equally to remain diligent in saving and securing it for brighter futures. to respect and admire each unique aspect of this earth, as we respect each unique aspect of our own selves, and the ones we know.
Hi Rachel,
When I was in my twenties I made a cross-country trip that was more of an around the country trip. I was amazed at how beautiful and diverse each state was. As an American I always believed the most enriching trip to take must be to Europe or another foreign country but after traveling the US I was stunned by the beauty our country has. I was shocked at how ignorant to that fact I had been.
Anyway, I started in CT and drove south along the outside states across to CA and when I hit AZ I instantly fell in love with the evergreen trees dotting the vast red/orange rocky mountain-scape. I was absolutely mesmerized. I fell in love with AZ and it’s truly unique landscape than what I’d seen so far on that trip. Truthfully, I only spent 3-4 days there but I hiked in Sedona at one of the vortexes (I’d have to dig up my travel journal to find which one) and the energy in the area was unlike anything I’d felt before.
I can understand how you’d get sick of AZ or not feel like it was your place but I think a lot of us feel that way about where we were born and raised. There is a feeling of needing to escape and get out of the place we spent so much time. I also think that it healthy and sometimes a necessary part along our personal journeys to get out of what and where we are comfortable and forge our own way out into the world. As Williams says, “How can I convey on the scale and power of the big wide open lands to those who have never seen them (p.6)?” Unfortunately, not everyone is able to do so but I agree with Williams, writing about the “wilderness” or other places is a tricky business. How does one describe something to someone else that has never seen it with their own eyes? To do so in a way that it brings them to that place seems near impossible. The only writer I feel has been able to do that for me is Maeve Binchy. She wrote about Ireland and I swear I feel like I’m there and I know what it looks and feel like even though I’ve never actually been to Ireland. One day I’ll go there and see if what she has me believe as Ireland truly is Ireland.
I enjoyed your post.
I think there is something really beautiful on how Williams brings the burren desert to poetry of is looking like skin and bones. There is this thing that comes up time to time about my utmost love for the desert but I only know where it comes from. Was there any deeper parts that’s spoke to you about Willams writings on the damn? Groingup there was the politics strong or did people turn a blind eye to it. The loss of water for communities and the damage it has endured during the 50 plus years it’s been up. I love that you have found your place place.