Of Trees

The popularity of Central Park demonstrates well the transformative power of the natural world. But it is not only the birds on display but also the park itself that feeds humanity’s love for the natural world. Parks and gardens also benefit humans, providing what Timothy Beatley calls biophilic urbanism. 

As Central Park’s architect Frederick Law Olmsted’s claimed, “It is a scientific fact that the occasional contemplation of natural scenes of an impressive character is favorable to the health and vigor of men.” 

Drawing on E.O. Wilson’s notion of biophilia, biologists Bjørn Grinde and Grete Grindal Patil assert, “Humans have an inherent inclination to affiliate with Nature [and] an affection for plants and other living things.” 

This affiliation with the natural world provides “social, psychological, pedagogical, and other benefits,” according to Beatley (211), even in urban areas. Beatley asserts “the nature present in dense, compact cities (such as a rooftop garden, an empty lot, a planted median) … can have restorative benefits” (212).

While walking my dog around my neighborhood, I wonder about Beatley and Wilson's claims. Do humans affiliate with nature inherently? And if they do, why do they destroy the very nature that sustains them? There are at least two observations that dispute biophilic claims: lack of human interaction with nature and prevalence of tree cutting.

Rarely do I see other people on my dog walks, even though I live in a working-class neighborhood of small houses and cul-de-sacs. And nature is everywhere. Birds flock in groves of trees. Squirrels and rabbits race away from my lab mix. Berries, crab apples, and walnuts cover lawns. People, though, stay inside. I catch glimpses of their television sets and hear reverberations from video games as I walk past. The furthest most of my neighbors walk is from car to house. Only a couple of dog owners traipse outdoors for longer than a few minutes--if they're over the age of 14.

Lately too my neighbors have cut down dozens of seemingly healthy trees. First my across-the-street neighbor chopped down a large oak tree that sheltered the birds I fed each winter. Then the owner of a small apartment complex around the corner cut down all of the trees in front of his building to expand a parking lot. In an adjacent neighborhood, a duplex owner cut out nine trees in one of the few shaded areas on his street. And near a condo complex, owners destroyed four massive oaks. 

So, if we have an affiliation for nature, we're doing it vicariously, perhaps through the Animal Planet station or a potted plant.