The Thoreau You Don't Know by Robert Sullivan: February 2011

More Animals in Urban Forests

Scientists investigating an increase in fishers in upstate New York forests wondered whether or not there were enough mammals for a fisher population to survive. Camera traps set up in the forests in the Albany area showed that there were more animals in urban forests than in non-urban forests.

We found higher diversity and overall higher activity of animals in our camera traps set in urban forests than in those out in the wild areas. The objective of this study was to compare the potential prey communities that fishers might encounter in these two environments. Could fishers be lured into these areas by abundant prey? Now we know that, yes, this could be part of the explanation (i.e. hypothesis not rejected).

Urban forests strike again, as agents of diversity, as reservoirs for species that we had not imagined were reservoirs for species. (In this case, the survey found 14 species in suburban forests, including dogs and snowmobilers, but only six in the so-called wild forests.) But another great this about this investigation is that it involved a high school study participating in "project-based study." A high school student, in other words, monitored the cameras and collected the data. High schools are a little like urban forests these days, especially given the emphasis on intellect-stomping standardized tests and now budget cuts everywhere: they are places where we have resources we probably don't know about, resources we are mostly not taking advantage of, resources we are likely hindering.
via the NY Times.

Fireball

The American Meteor Society confirmed a meteor spotted today over New Jersey and Pennsylvania. A photographer in the Lehigh Valley saw it, according to the Express-Times:

Express-Times contributing photographer Tim Wynkoop reported seeing the meteor shortly before 1 o'clock as he was driving on South Main Street in Phillipsburg, traveling west to east across the southern sky, though it was gone before he could snap a picture. "In the sky straight ahead, I saw this huge ball of fire coming down out of the sky, probably at a very sharp angle," Wynkoop said. "It left a very long trail of fire. I didn't see any smoke. As soon as you saw it, it was gone."

Said Robert Lunsford, the AMS's operations manager: "This was indeed a meteor."

They're Back

As noted today in the Daily News, the whales are back.

Human Settlements

Something that Thoreau does well is help you think about cities as human settlements, places that are as natural as any place else, sometimes more natural than other places. Here, via a cool place somewhere in Oregon, are these photos by Michael Wolf.

via The Best Time of Day

Maps are Cool

Available now from Robert Sullivan, the New York Times best selling author, and published by Harper. A description from the publisher:

What if Henry David Thoreau—America’s pioneering nature lover, the man who famously lived in a little house of his own construction—was actually pro-city rather than just a monkish introvert who wanted to be left alone in the woods? What if the man we think of as so serious and introspective was really a joker, a bit of clown, a kind of stand-up comic in his day? And what if the fact that he often went home to his family or into town for supper didn’t show him to be a cheater or a fraud as far as self-reliance goes? What if spending time with his friends and family—i.e., community—was his point all along?

Reasons that Thoreau is maybe more applicable to these troubling times than you may imagine

¶ He was living not in a peaceful time where he could just sit there and look at a pond but at a time of financial crisis, panics, even, when unemployment was first being recognized as a crisis, when people began to think that the economic system was broken—to wit, there were unemployed workers often living at Walden Pond.
¶ He was not just writing about butterflies (though he uses one to excellent, redemptive effect at Walden's end) but about how work was taking over our lives, how play was disappearing, how things like conversation were disappearing, along with sympathy, empathy and gratitude.
¶ He was very interested in gadgets, being an engineer himself--no technophobe--and living at a time of intense technological excitement.
¶ He was big on tunes, as in music, as in having a playlist, though in those days it was called a repertoire—he played a mean flute.

A Review

A mischievous reporter on the universe, Sullivan has found beauty in a notorious swamp in The Meadowlands (1998) and wisdom in an alley in Rats (2004). In his latest slyly philosophical inquiry, he endeavors to free Henry David Thoreau from his calcified reputation as a cantankerous hermit and nature worshipper. Sounding like your favorite teacher who manages to make history fun and relevant, Sullivan vibrantly portrays the sage of Walden as a geeky, curious, compassionate fellow of high intelligence and deep feelings who loved company, music, and long walks. An exceptional writer mad for puns, Thoreau
was also a bold social critic and—the crux of Sullivan’s stimulating argument—a brilliant, tongue-incheek
humorist. Sullivan, himself plenty saucy, also elucidates Thoreau’s radical focus on “man’s
interaction with nature.” In command of a great diversity of fascinating material, Sullivan succinctly illuminates the striking parallels between Thoreau’s time and ours—foreclosures, lost jobs, and rapid technological change. Thoreau remains vital and valuable because of his acute observations, wit, and lyricism and his recognition that the “force of life is everywhere,” a perception even more essential now that the consequences of the societal choices Thoreau prophetically critiqued have reached staggering proportions.--Donna Seaman, in Booklist

More from the publisher:
Henry David Thoreau is one of those authors that readers think you know, even if they don’t. He’s the solitary curmudgeon with the shack out in the woods, the mystic worshipping solemnly in the quiet church of nature. He’s our national Natural Man, the prophet of environmentalism. But here Robert Sullivan—who himself has been called an “urban Thoreau” (New York Times Book Review) presents the Thoreau you don’t know: the activist, the organizer, the gregarious adventurer, the guy who likes to go camping with friends (even if they sometimes accidentally burn the woods down). Sullivan argues that Walden was a book intended to revive America, a communal work forever pigeonholed as a reclusive one, and that this misreading is at the heart of our troubled relationship with the environment today. Sullivan shows us not a lonely eccentric but a man in his growing village, a man who danced and sang, who worked throughout his short life at the family pencil-making business, and moved into his parents’ house after leaving Walden Pond, but always paid his father rent. Passionate yet whimsical, The Thoreau You Don’t Know asks us to re-examine our everyday relationship with the natural world, and one another.