ASUSU VIEW: Of ducks and men
Doesn’t it seem like a lot of campus programs and initiatives are aimed at what these groups call “promoting awareness”? That’s great and all, but what does that mean? Can you imagine if all these well-meaning groups succeeded in making you and me more aware? We would be some sort of superhuman robots (hip ones of course – we’re now fashion-aware) who never offend (we’d be too aware of others’ feelings for that), never trip while trying to walk and text, and never, ever have a friend lean over and say “Dude, XYZ.” I dare say no birthday, friend’s new haircut, or homework deadline would ever go unnoticed. But alas, this isn’t so – sorry Dr. Kurtzman, if you’re reading this, I’ll get that writing assignment in real soon.
I know what you’re asking yourself: “Ummm…so what does this have to do with ducks? The title clearly says the word ‘duck.'” I know. I know. Trust me, I’m just as crazy about ducks as you are; we’ll get there. If you’ve read this far already, another few seconds of reading couldn’t hurt; so let’s move on. On the topic of waterfowl (see, we’re there), pioneering American conversationalist Aldo Leopold said the following in his book “A Sand County Almanac”:
“A … morning is only as drab as he who walks in it without a glance skyward, ear cocked for geese. I once knew an educated lady …, who told me that she had never heard or seen the geese that twice a year proclaim the revolving seasons to her well-insulated roof. Is education possibly a process of trading awareness for things of lesser worth? The goose who trades his is soon a pile of feathers.”
On a more familiar and less duck-related level, a typical USU student will have noticed some fluffy white stuff around campus and the surrounding mountains as of late. And no I’m not talking about cute little bunnies – I mean snow. A more observant student may have even noticed that nearly 40 percent of the students in his/her 8:30 a.m. general biology class decided that even a skiff of snow was just too much and skipped class today. But only a truly aware student will have taken notice of the natural, telltale cues which give subtle signal to the season’s change – only one of which is the onset of snowfall.
Leopold goes on: “A cardinal, whistling spring to a thaw but later finding himself mistaken, can retrieve his error by resuming his winter silence. A chipmunk, emerging for a sunbath but finding a blizzard, has only to go back to bed. But a migrating goose, staking two hundred miles of black night on the chance of finding a hole in the lake, has no easy chance for retreat. His arrival carries the conviction of a prophet who has burned his bridges.”
I was privileged enough to spend a recent Saturday morning in one of Cache Valley’s beautiful marshes. My buddy Jessop and I stood on the cattail-lined banks, waiting for the lazy sun to break the predawn chill and usher in the start of our day of hunting. For me, hunting isn’t about the actual harvest of wildlife, but the experiences had while afield. Anyone who knows me can tell you that when I go hunting, I usually fail to “bring home the beef,” but rarely do I fail to bring home a smile on my face, a few good stories (usually exaggerated of course), and an increased awareness and appreciation for the intricate simplicities of nature.
Hands were numb on this morning as Jessop and I sat, mouth-agape, flocks of Tundra Swans cutting the cold sky high above us with their powerful flight and almost hound-like, wheezy calls. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I thought to myself. For these massive swans and many other waterfowl, Logan is south for the winter. After spending the summer on the northern tundra, they’ve opted to spend their winter months here, like we do (so think of that next time you’re complaining about Logan winters).
I know I’ve made light of awareness-promoting activities, but in all seriousness, I find myself asking the same question Leopold did over half a century ago; am I trading my awareness for something of lesser worth? I hope the answer is no. I invite you to join me this week in celebrating USU’s Natural Resources and Sustainability Week, Nov. 1-6. See cnr.usu.edu for the stellar lineup of activities that I hope will enable you to be even minutely more aware of the wonders of the natural world around you. As you strive for increased awareness, you’ll be amazed what you learn about nature, how to ensure its continued existence, and hopefully even a little about yourself.
Jason Carlisle is the ASUSU natural resources senator.