Thank you for sharing. I appreciate the thoughtful reflections that are warm, intimate & insightful. It brought to mind my childhood exploring fields & streams behind my home with my brother. We enjoyed the flowers and wildlife that lived there. We often brought home critters like fish, frogs, turtles, snakes & night crawlers for fishing to my mother's chagrin!
Love that picture of you & your dad💕I've always loved your pictures from the north!
I love reading these. Your descriptions are so vivid that it takes me on a journey. It also reminds me of youth and sitting in a field of blueberries. Picking them with my grandmother, my neighbor Jess or Cecil.
I didn’t realize then but now how those berries soothed me. I loved picking berries and I was meticulous in making sure I just put berries in my bucket and not any leaves like grandma.
While I read this it made me think even though I would never use the word I had air have a relationship with the land. The land growing up around me, also in Cape Breton, gave me comfort at times that I never realized before. Come to think of it, it still does.
I know when I go out for walks on the trails around us I am looking at all the different trees and plants.
If nature calms you and soothes your soul is that considered a relationship and we just don’t realize it? Do we only consider it to be a relationship if we know the names of the plants trees?
If we notice the land is being destroyed misused and conjures up sad feelings as to why it is being destroyed. Aren’t those sad feelings caused by the relationship you have for the land? Why else would it bother me?
Relationships are complicated and maybe this is true when it comes to the land and trying to figure out what it means for each of us.
I remember as a child hearing words like "taming the land" and "conquering the wilderness", "breaking the ground" caused me to fear the land. The land was separate and wild and we needed to bend it to our needs. It occurs to me now how the same attitude was applied to the first inhabitants of "our" land. The cowboy and Indian shows of my youth told stories of savages that needed to be conquered.
Many of the early settlers brought fear, greed and ignorance to the land. And arrogance. There are so many layers to the colonization of both the land and the people. Clearing of farm land with little or no understanding of the effects on the natural environment. The continuing racism that creates separation and "othering" among the people who live here.
I don't know if I have a relationship.with the land but more of a connection that I feel in my gut and my heart. I try to live with more respect and love for the land than the latent fear that I grew up with.
Thanks for raising such interesting questions and reflections.
Oh and I was a member of CGIT. My parents were a bit dubious as they felt it was a Protestant organization and my family were pretty strict Catholic LOL.
Wow. Vera, I love that photo of you and your Dad. Thank you for such a thoughtful piece. Growing up in the same neck of the woods as you I shared the same kind of childhood. I have always believed that our childhood and youth stamp every aspect of our lives. How we look at the world. I know most of us spend our adult lives trying to find some way to go back and recapture the simplicity and pure joy of just being outside. You have given me so much to think about . I am going to look up some of your references and like you, try to build that relationship again.
Thank you Vera for your writing and your photos! Oh my the photo of 'Daddy' and you reveals so much. He looks so wonderful and happy with his little girl. Thanks for your honesty and generosity. As you know I have lived with a remnant of native prairie grasses all my life. It was part of the farm where I grew and since the early 80's I have had 'simple title' to NE.31.21.17 in the RM of Cupar. We call this 130 patch Grandmothers' Hills. I have learned so much over the decades of visiting and being with this little patch. I have often called myself a 'Steward of Native Prairie.' My friend Elaine caught me up short when she said ... 'I hate it when you call yourself a Steward.' Taken aback ... way aback I asked ... 'what the hell?" She said ...'the word Steward always puts you, the human, in the dominant position in the relationship.' Hmmmm .... Eventually I asked my dear and formidable friend what she thought would be a better word to describe my part in the relationship to Land ... she said ... 'companion.'
Taking myself out of the dominant position, as 3rd generation Settler, in all kinds of relationships, is taking up residence in me.
Thank you Vera for your beautiful openness of words and images.
Solace (I love the word) comfort in grief : alleviation of grief or anxiety. : a source of relief or consolation. This is the hope-word that came to me as I read about the tragic rupture in your young life.
Land and ocean have been solace for me. My original land was the north shore of PEI and my original salt water was the Gulf of St Lawrence. I lived in many Canadian provinces before I came to Saskatchewan. SE Saskatchewan was a shock for me, I felt like I had moved to the back of the moon. I was in full alienation and conflict with the land, the lack of trees, the lack of curves and surprises hidden by hills. Eventually though I came to see that through this strangeness the prairie land became my teacher. I had to see differently, I had to feel differently, I had to learn to lie face down and close up to this land.
I commend to you and your readers ‘Speaking of Nature’ by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Such a thought-provoking piece, Vera. I really enjoyed reading this with my coffee at lunch break (I'm in the south of Ireland, hence the time zone difference). :)
"Relationship" is a word I've used very often in my landscape photography in the past, but looking back now I would say that my approach was mainly a kind of self-exploration through nature, or exploring how nature impacts me specifically. Which I guess is part of it, but I don't think allows the landscape enough agency. It's more stemming from the romantic tradition of idealizing nature. I would like to reach a place where I can learn about and appreciate the natural landscape without self-referencing in any way. Thank you for spurring these thoughts on in my head.
In some ways, the previously-referenced colonial view of being separate and superior to nature, is quite similar (and perhaps entirely linked) to the religious view of same.
Beautifully said Vera! Like you, I am 60 years old and was raised in Atlantic Canada. Your laugh-out- loud memories of mud pies and grasshopper 'molasses' resonated so much. Isn't it interesting how most children instinctively have a relationship to nature? I believe it's there in all of us - it's in our cells - and if we get quiet enough we can sometimes feel the incredible healing power of the natural world. And yes, I was once the person who would roll my eyes at "woo-woo tree-huggers" but as I've gotten older, and looked to natural remedies to deal with chronic illness, I've honed my sensitivity - or rather "come back to my senses" and childlike intuition - spending as much time as possible in my own little 'fairy woodland' on my property and revelling in the magic and tranquility. ;-)
I was also intrigued by the correlations you made between "Church" culture (and the need to conquer and suppress for the sake of 'evolution' ) and the Indigenous cultures (whose very identity is deeply tied to gratitude for the beauty, grace and life-giving power of nature ). It reminded me of an excellent novel by Elizabeth Gilbert called the "The Signature of All Things" - an adventure/love story set in 1800's America and Tahiti. It wasn't one of her best-selling works but it's an incredibly beautifully written story of a female American botanist researcher against a not-so-subtle underlying message about the impact of Christianity on the indigenous Polynesian culture. It's worth a read! PS Your memories and photos with the Inuit people were incredibly moving - thank you for sharing those!
Much to think about here! Your words have made me ponder my own upbringing, history, thus reflection on my "relationship" with nature, etc.
IE: growing up within the concrete cookie-cutter imagination-less bio-dome of suburbia within a large US city...it's finally making me realize why I'm obsessed with biking & kayaking in the summers here. As if I'm obsessively soaking in the nature and making up for lost time. Or like a person who hasn't seen sunlight in a while, soaking in the rays like a battery recharging.
And yes...church culture has much to do with it. Being taught that "we rule over nature" and we can use nature at our disposal, even if many of us have rarely BEEN in nature! Ha.
Yet I'm still vastly afraid of nature. I loathe camping. And I'm embarrassed that I probably couldn't start a fire if my life depended on it. And I have virtually no survival knowledge of wild animal encounters. Baby steps, I guess...at age 52!
Wow - what a wonderful way to begin my day. Contemplating my relationship with the land. Your writing and Lee Ann's below has inspired me to wonder where my attachment to the land began. It began through a combination of life circumstances as a child and the place I was born and then taken to. I was born in Switzerland in the mountains where we went to a small village school. Everything we did was in relation to the land. The mountains have a way of doing that. And then we moved, and moved again. Every time I attempted to start a garden which I know in retrospect was a response to the chaos in human relationships around me. I would just get out there and dig. When I couldn't, I would walk into the hills and just lay down.
In all these years I have always returned to the solace and constancy of the land. Inspired by Krista Tippett, I am reading "Ways of Being" by James Bridle. I highly recommend it.
Thank you, Vera. You and Sue always give me something to think about. I suppose I am one of those who embraces the term "relationship" when it comes to the land, though everything you said makes perfect sense to me and feels uncomfortably familiar, as well. I grew up in a family of gardeners, which required getting to know at least the small plot of land in which we grew things. Gardening is a collaborative effort with the land. You see first hand that plants are living and growing; that the soil changes when moisture or humus is added; that there are all sorts of worms and insects and fungi that live in the soil; how the seasons change; how how the deer, rabbits, groundhogs and slugs also are also attracted to the growing plants. You get soil on your hands and knees, and physically feel that connection. My grandfather, in particular, introduced me to plants he was tending--bending over them, sharing their Latin names, telling me something about their personality. People often tell me I talk about plants as if they are people. These days, I try to think in broader, more historic terms--especially about how the land shaped the lives of people who live in a particular place and how people have reshaped the land for their own needs. All of this, including the gardening, has sometimes been for the better, sometimes for the worse.
I am also all-too-regularly reminded that as a society, we don't tend to that relationship...that the land is considered, as you say, non-human. There is a forester in the family who loves to argue the benefits of clear cutting, explaining how the forest is the worst place to "store" trees. I try to listen to him, and there is a surprising amount of logic in what he says, but we still disagree. I believe it is because we view trees differently. Though he knows and loves trees, he views the forest as a resource or commodity. And yes, by virtue of living in today's world, I am a consumer of products made from those trees. And it makes me wonder if gardening is any different from farming trees. I hope so, but it brings to light our complex relationship to the land.
Thank you for sharing. I appreciate the thoughtful reflections that are warm, intimate & insightful. It brought to mind my childhood exploring fields & streams behind my home with my brother. We enjoyed the flowers and wildlife that lived there. We often brought home critters like fish, frogs, turtles, snakes & night crawlers for fishing to my mother's chagrin!
Love that picture of you & your dad💕I've always loved your pictures from the north!
I love reading these. Your descriptions are so vivid that it takes me on a journey. It also reminds me of youth and sitting in a field of blueberries. Picking them with my grandmother, my neighbor Jess or Cecil.
I didn’t realize then but now how those berries soothed me. I loved picking berries and I was meticulous in making sure I just put berries in my bucket and not any leaves like grandma.
While I read this it made me think even though I would never use the word I had air have a relationship with the land. The land growing up around me, also in Cape Breton, gave me comfort at times that I never realized before. Come to think of it, it still does.
I know when I go out for walks on the trails around us I am looking at all the different trees and plants.
If nature calms you and soothes your soul is that considered a relationship and we just don’t realize it? Do we only consider it to be a relationship if we know the names of the plants trees?
If we notice the land is being destroyed misused and conjures up sad feelings as to why it is being destroyed. Aren’t those sad feelings caused by the relationship you have for the land? Why else would it bother me?
Relationships are complicated and maybe this is true when it comes to the land and trying to figure out what it means for each of us.
I remember as a child hearing words like "taming the land" and "conquering the wilderness", "breaking the ground" caused me to fear the land. The land was separate and wild and we needed to bend it to our needs. It occurs to me now how the same attitude was applied to the first inhabitants of "our" land. The cowboy and Indian shows of my youth told stories of savages that needed to be conquered.
Many of the early settlers brought fear, greed and ignorance to the land. And arrogance. There are so many layers to the colonization of both the land and the people. Clearing of farm land with little or no understanding of the effects on the natural environment. The continuing racism that creates separation and "othering" among the people who live here.
I don't know if I have a relationship.with the land but more of a connection that I feel in my gut and my heart. I try to live with more respect and love for the land than the latent fear that I grew up with.
Thanks for raising such interesting questions and reflections.
It was lovely hearing your journey, especially the whimsy of your youth. Thank you for taking us all on your explorative journey in our landscape.
Oh and I was a member of CGIT. My parents were a bit dubious as they felt it was a Protestant organization and my family were pretty strict Catholic LOL.
Wow. Vera, I love that photo of you and your Dad. Thank you for such a thoughtful piece. Growing up in the same neck of the woods as you I shared the same kind of childhood. I have always believed that our childhood and youth stamp every aspect of our lives. How we look at the world. I know most of us spend our adult lives trying to find some way to go back and recapture the simplicity and pure joy of just being outside. You have given me so much to think about . I am going to look up some of your references and like you, try to build that relationship again.
Thank you Vera for your writing and your photos! Oh my the photo of 'Daddy' and you reveals so much. He looks so wonderful and happy with his little girl. Thanks for your honesty and generosity. As you know I have lived with a remnant of native prairie grasses all my life. It was part of the farm where I grew and since the early 80's I have had 'simple title' to NE.31.21.17 in the RM of Cupar. We call this 130 patch Grandmothers' Hills. I have learned so much over the decades of visiting and being with this little patch. I have often called myself a 'Steward of Native Prairie.' My friend Elaine caught me up short when she said ... 'I hate it when you call yourself a Steward.' Taken aback ... way aback I asked ... 'what the hell?" She said ...'the word Steward always puts you, the human, in the dominant position in the relationship.' Hmmmm .... Eventually I asked my dear and formidable friend what she thought would be a better word to describe my part in the relationship to Land ... she said ... 'companion.'
Taking myself out of the dominant position, as 3rd generation Settler, in all kinds of relationships, is taking up residence in me.
Thank you Vera for your beautiful openness of words and images.
Solace (I love the word) comfort in grief : alleviation of grief or anxiety. : a source of relief or consolation. This is the hope-word that came to me as I read about the tragic rupture in your young life.
Land and ocean have been solace for me. My original land was the north shore of PEI and my original salt water was the Gulf of St Lawrence. I lived in many Canadian provinces before I came to Saskatchewan. SE Saskatchewan was a shock for me, I felt like I had moved to the back of the moon. I was in full alienation and conflict with the land, the lack of trees, the lack of curves and surprises hidden by hills. Eventually though I came to see that through this strangeness the prairie land became my teacher. I had to see differently, I had to feel differently, I had to learn to lie face down and close up to this land.
I commend to you and your readers ‘Speaking of Nature’ by Robin Wall Kimmerer
https://orionmagazine.org/article/speaking-of-nature/
Such a thought-provoking piece, Vera. I really enjoyed reading this with my coffee at lunch break (I'm in the south of Ireland, hence the time zone difference). :)
"Relationship" is a word I've used very often in my landscape photography in the past, but looking back now I would say that my approach was mainly a kind of self-exploration through nature, or exploring how nature impacts me specifically. Which I guess is part of it, but I don't think allows the landscape enough agency. It's more stemming from the romantic tradition of idealizing nature. I would like to reach a place where I can learn about and appreciate the natural landscape without self-referencing in any way. Thank you for spurring these thoughts on in my head.
In some ways, the previously-referenced colonial view of being separate and superior to nature, is quite similar (and perhaps entirely linked) to the religious view of same.
All the best,
Alan Tobin
Beautifully said Vera! Like you, I am 60 years old and was raised in Atlantic Canada. Your laugh-out- loud memories of mud pies and grasshopper 'molasses' resonated so much. Isn't it interesting how most children instinctively have a relationship to nature? I believe it's there in all of us - it's in our cells - and if we get quiet enough we can sometimes feel the incredible healing power of the natural world. And yes, I was once the person who would roll my eyes at "woo-woo tree-huggers" but as I've gotten older, and looked to natural remedies to deal with chronic illness, I've honed my sensitivity - or rather "come back to my senses" and childlike intuition - spending as much time as possible in my own little 'fairy woodland' on my property and revelling in the magic and tranquility. ;-)
I was also intrigued by the correlations you made between "Church" culture (and the need to conquer and suppress for the sake of 'evolution' ) and the Indigenous cultures (whose very identity is deeply tied to gratitude for the beauty, grace and life-giving power of nature ). It reminded me of an excellent novel by Elizabeth Gilbert called the "The Signature of All Things" - an adventure/love story set in 1800's America and Tahiti. It wasn't one of her best-selling works but it's an incredibly beautifully written story of a female American botanist researcher against a not-so-subtle underlying message about the impact of Christianity on the indigenous Polynesian culture. It's worth a read! PS Your memories and photos with the Inuit people were incredibly moving - thank you for sharing those!
Much to think about here! Your words have made me ponder my own upbringing, history, thus reflection on my "relationship" with nature, etc.
IE: growing up within the concrete cookie-cutter imagination-less bio-dome of suburbia within a large US city...it's finally making me realize why I'm obsessed with biking & kayaking in the summers here. As if I'm obsessively soaking in the nature and making up for lost time. Or like a person who hasn't seen sunlight in a while, soaking in the rays like a battery recharging.
And yes...church culture has much to do with it. Being taught that "we rule over nature" and we can use nature at our disposal, even if many of us have rarely BEEN in nature! Ha.
Yet I'm still vastly afraid of nature. I loathe camping. And I'm embarrassed that I probably couldn't start a fire if my life depended on it. And I have virtually no survival knowledge of wild animal encounters. Baby steps, I guess...at age 52!
Wow - what a wonderful way to begin my day. Contemplating my relationship with the land. Your writing and Lee Ann's below has inspired me to wonder where my attachment to the land began. It began through a combination of life circumstances as a child and the place I was born and then taken to. I was born in Switzerland in the mountains where we went to a small village school. Everything we did was in relation to the land. The mountains have a way of doing that. And then we moved, and moved again. Every time I attempted to start a garden which I know in retrospect was a response to the chaos in human relationships around me. I would just get out there and dig. When I couldn't, I would walk into the hills and just lay down.
In all these years I have always returned to the solace and constancy of the land. Inspired by Krista Tippett, I am reading "Ways of Being" by James Bridle. I highly recommend it.
Thank you, Vera. You and Sue always give me something to think about. I suppose I am one of those who embraces the term "relationship" when it comes to the land, though everything you said makes perfect sense to me and feels uncomfortably familiar, as well. I grew up in a family of gardeners, which required getting to know at least the small plot of land in which we grew things. Gardening is a collaborative effort with the land. You see first hand that plants are living and growing; that the soil changes when moisture or humus is added; that there are all sorts of worms and insects and fungi that live in the soil; how the seasons change; how how the deer, rabbits, groundhogs and slugs also are also attracted to the growing plants. You get soil on your hands and knees, and physically feel that connection. My grandfather, in particular, introduced me to plants he was tending--bending over them, sharing their Latin names, telling me something about their personality. People often tell me I talk about plants as if they are people. These days, I try to think in broader, more historic terms--especially about how the land shaped the lives of people who live in a particular place and how people have reshaped the land for their own needs. All of this, including the gardening, has sometimes been for the better, sometimes for the worse.
I am also all-too-regularly reminded that as a society, we don't tend to that relationship...that the land is considered, as you say, non-human. There is a forester in the family who loves to argue the benefits of clear cutting, explaining how the forest is the worst place to "store" trees. I try to listen to him, and there is a surprising amount of logic in what he says, but we still disagree. I believe it is because we view trees differently. Though he knows and loves trees, he views the forest as a resource or commodity. And yes, by virtue of living in today's world, I am a consumer of products made from those trees. And it makes me wonder if gardening is any different from farming trees. I hope so, but it brings to light our complex relationship to the land.