A Starlit Paddle and its Duality


Last week, I had the incredible opportunity to accompany my class to Benbrook Lake and canoe amongst the stars! I grew up canoeing and kayaking on the Caney Fork and Harpeth Rivers in Tennessee, but since coming to college, I haven’t had much of an opportunity. So when I heard our class was going to be able to partake in this activity, I jumped at the chance.

While, of course, I was excited to get out in nature in a fun and different way, I was also very much looking forward to being with my class and having the opportunity get to know everyone a little better. That’s why I love Colloquia classes; everyone is excited to spend that bit of extra time and dig a little deeper into the content experientially. And boy did we experience. Being out there under the stars surrounded by nothing but 20 feet of water and each other was pretty amazing. 


While being on the water did not allow for many studies of flora and fauna, it gave us the opportunity to spend most of our time simply taking in the environment around us. We heard ducks in the distance, picked out many constellations, saw the ripple on the water as a fish jumped, and pondered the effects of the power plant and its light pollution on the lake and surrounding area. We decided that, of course, we understand the purpose of putting the plant in a less densely populated area- one that would affect fewer people on the day-to-day. However, putting it right on a lake, in an area of solitude, is SUCH a detriment, not allowing it to live up to its full and peaceful potential.



One of my biggest takeaways was the duality of the industrialized nature of the area with the little pocket of peace that we had found. This was not only exemplified by the aforementioned power plant, but also by a very specific moment in time (captured poorly and blurrily above). While we were canoeing, there were a few minutes when a motorized parasailer crossed paths with a “V” of geese flying above us. As I looked upon this sight, I couldn’t help but chuckle. 


It is true that some might be upset that the birds are forced to share the sky with this parasailer, that his motor is drowning the sounds of the wind and the rippling water. Some might think that this parasailer has no regard for nature. While all this could be true and should be considered, I also believe there is a clearly demonstrated desire to be closer to nature and the environment around him- wanting to be one with the birds, to see what they see and fly among them. I wonder if Edward Abby had had the opportunity to parasail (or, in his case, live in a snake pit or something else wild), would he have done it? Would he take the chance to better understand that with which he longed to know on a deeper level even at the price of disturbing it for but a moment? Because, in reality, the parasailer did not harm the birds- at most, he probably confused them. But he now has a new perspective of them, and I think we could all benefit from a bit more perspective (even if it is a goose’s).


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