Puente “Chills”
A strong breeze caused shivers to run down my spine as I walked towards Diehl basement for my 3:00pm Environmental Journalism class with Professor Donnelly. I huddled in my multiple layers of jackets, socks, and leggings as I quickly entered the classroom and sighed as the warmth of the room surrounded me. Today was our first class hike into the Puente Hills and I was more than excited to be able to get a closer look at the nature that surrounds the Whittier area. I don’t think anyone had expected it to be this cold in Southern California in February, but I guess Mother Nature had her own plans for this season.
As the class all groaned at the thought of having to hike in the cold, I found a certain sense of excitement had replaced the dread I felt initially, and I was more than ready to get moving. The second Donnelly had told us we were going to be leaving, I was up and basically already out the door.
Walking through campus, I realized just how much I take the beauty and overall natural vibe of the campus for granted; the towering palm trees that sway back and forth with the wind, and the dried leaves that would crunch with each step we took seemed to harmonize with the natural symphony the wind conducted. There’s a sense of serenity that passed over me as I turned towards the cloudy sky that had just a sliver of the setting sun that kissed the golden hills; I couldn’t help but be reminded of the mountains back home that separate Gilroy from Santa Cruz which I so cautiously would drive over to watch the sunset. I began to ponder how truly connected to nature I’ve been recently and discovered that I have been more than out-of-touch with the environment since I’ve become so involved with school and work.
Realizing that I’ve been so oblivious to the world around me was a surreal moment as I have always considered myself to be very aware of my surroundings. My last encounter where I felt so immersed in nature was around 7 months ago, when my ex-boyfriend and I had camped in the Santa Cruz mountains and hiked to the top of Mt. Madonna. I remember the feeling of complete peace as I listened to the rain gently drip onto the leaves of the trees, the smell of eucalyptus that overwhelmed my senses, and the feeling of the moss as I leaned up against the large Redwoods. I felt as though nature had cradled me within its arms and I was one with the ecosystem I had entered.
On this hike my class embarked on, I sensed that I was a visitor in a land that I shared with the other life and those other organisms were my gracious hosts. The idea that this land is not obligated to conform to our needs is something that I don’t believe many people realize. Land has no emotion, no sense of feeling as advanced as us humans may, but land also has no commitment to our existence. Nature is not rightfully ours, it is something that we share as one community with all the other lifeforms that live on this Earth; It is a privilege to be able to experience the beauty and practicality that Earth has to offer us. For many, this concept may be difficult to understand as they believe that nature is solely meant for the purpose of being taken advantage of in an industrial and progressive sense. While this may be a positive benefit of nature, there is an aesthetic value that is lost in translation when only observing the land as a tool.
Our world is so easily neglected, something that became more than apparent while passing the graffiti slab of concrete in the middle of the hills and the trash that lay forgotten on the trails. As a society, we so easily take for granted the world around us because any of us feel that we are entitled to all the resources that are accessible. I felt my eyes were opened as we continued to walk the dirt path that led into the hills and I listened closely to what was going on around me. The hum of the airplanes above polluted what could have been a beautiful silence, but of course, man had to intrude on this as well. I find myself wondering what nature untouched would be, and if such a thing exists currently; If there’s some undiscovered place that we have yet to invade and conquer.
As we reached the highest point of our hike, I tilted my head slightly towards the sun, being cautious to remember not to directly stare at the bright star, and I happened to glance just as a hawk was soaring overhead. I so desired to be in the air, soaring alongside the bird as it hovered above us. I felt a sense of freedom watching the hawk as it plowed through the clouds and left a trail of air behind it. I couldn’t help but smile as it so majestically passed directly in front of the sun and dove down towards the rolling hills. I imagined what it must be like to be an animal whose only home has ever been the trees and the ever-expanding sky.
Reflecting fully on the hike, I have come to the realization that I want to be more connected to the Earth, nature, and the land around me as a whole. There are so many questions that have emerged in my mind that I hope to seek answers to by becoming more involved with the environment. I have made the effort over the past few days to sit outside more, go to Penn Park, and immerse myself in nature to further reaches.
