In our assigned reading for last week, we read a piece by Santa Barraza about the significance of the maguey. Barraza writes: "The maguey is the symbol of home, of hogar" (20). I once again felt the way essayists often times connect to geography as a sense of home, and how my own map is so blank. Even though Barraza writes about a geography that I am familiar with, I cannot connect. A few feeble attempts to connect with the landscape were squeezed out by the nature walk that we took as a class last night:
"bits of leftover sunlight mixed with waxing moonlight on patches of water, left on the land by the tide"
"the branches envelope me, and truth blossoms-- red berries, small but abundant"
"there is a lack of clouds, except on the horizon line, making the moon bright and the shadows deepen"
and finally, inspired by Thoreau's "Walking", "I was not given the lushness of forests, but the stickiness of wetlands."
But most of the tidbits I collected are not focused on anything unique to the region. The sun and the moon shine everywhere and trees are common. I failed to connect to the distinctiveness of my home.
I was (and I am grateful for this) able to connect with nature on a broad scale. Many of my classmates were 'skeptical' as we labeled it in class, and were unable to see nature without also seeing the encroachment of man on nature. Although we were on a paved trail surrounded by apartment buildings and being passed by joggers, I was able to clear my mind of all of that. Maybe I figured that if I couldn't have what Thoreau had, then maybe this was good enough and I should try my hardest to see it as a true Nature Walk.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
I felt the same way you did...a disconnection from the landscape as home. I've always viewed this as a byproduct of moving around so much when I was a kid. I don't really feel like any place is home, so I can't connect to anything visually as home. Though, interestingly, there are certain sounds and smells that are attached to my Grandpa's house that evoke "home" or something akin. I wonder what this says about the power values in visual versus aural or the sense of smell.
I too have trouble connecting since I'm from the east coast. Thoreau's description is closer to what I experienced in my youth.
Yet, something about the Maguey plant connects with me as a mother. I imagine it has something to do with the fertility associations and giving birth. When she speaks about "home," I immediately associate it with my daughter. The geography brings me to another sense of "home." I found it fascinating how each person connected or disconnected with the landscape.
I wasn't skeptical...just anticipatory. But I had to get off alone. The impending darkness helped some too. I found the joggers only a minor intrusion; you just about have to expect some sort of intrusion these days. Anywhere. After all, there are 300,000,000+ of us in this country alone.
I understand what you mean here. I don't necessarily feel that connection to nature on our artificial nature trail, but I have felt it before, felt the uniqueness of the area. For instance, there's something about this area where there's an inherent smell of mesquite wood burning. I don't know if that's barbeques, nature, or what, but I will always associate my home with that smell.
Barraza, I suppose, does the same with the maguey (magooey). But that's the same with anything, not just nature. You come to associate certain familiar places with little, seemingly unimportant things.
Post a Comment