An Apple Orchard by Piper Shogren
I cannot present a landscape that informs who I am and carries my whole history in one photograph. Nevertheless, I’ve chosen a picture of a walking path through an apple orchard. To properly explain this choice, however, I must first answer the other questions from the prompt.
Williams’ “Bedrock Democracy” is a system wherein we all care for nature/a landscape which defines us: a place which “informs who we are…carries our history, our dreams, [and] holds us to a moral line of behavior that transcends thought” (19). The orchard’s land provides for humanity; however, this place does not function as a Bedrock Democracy. According to bell hooks, “the way we regard land and nature will determine the level of our self-regard” (368). From what I can tell on their website, humanity is not providing as much care for the orchard as they receive. They market themselves as having many attractions and events, but do not mention much about care for the environment. Thus, this place is not necessarily a system of mutual care, so much as human enjoyment/development in a natural location which has been controlled by humanity.
Kingsolver argues we need wildness as it humbles us, “reminds us that our plans are small and somewhat absurd;” nature does many miraculous things (like food growing from the ground), proving humanity is not superior (2). I agree with this perspective, and her statement, “these places own me: They hold my history, my passions and my capacity for honest work” (Kingsolver 1). Nature and wildness not only offers what we need to survive physically, it can teach us about ourselves and our past. According to bell hooks, “working the land provides a location where folks can experience a sense of personal power and well-being” (365). Further, after emancipation, “many Black people returned to the South, seeking ‘spiritual nourishment;’ they wanted to heal by ‘reaffirming one’s connection to nature’” (hooks 367). Considering both perspectives, nature interacts with humanity—offering physical and emotional sustenance. I am reminded of Agarwal’s description of “knowledge…acquired via traditional forms of interacting with nature” (136). Connecting with nature reminds us: a balanced ecosystem works to provide for all creatures. At the same time, seeing nature (and human interactions with it) through an ecofeminist lens offers us clarity about things we used to take for granted. For example, recognizing how water pollution has historically harmed marginalized communities (for example, in Flint, Michigan) reminds us to support environmental protections in the present and future, as well as assisting diverse groups who are more vulnerable to the devastating effects of environmental degradation. When we recognize nature/the environment’s influence over everything in human life, we realize (patriarchal) human efforts to control/use nature for our own purposes are futile, ultimately harming us as well.
I believe everyone can connect with Earth/nature and their history, regardless of their location, but what this connection looks like may differ between people. City dwellers can connect with the Earth and their history through the arts and stories even if they are unable to travel to the place or experience all the wonders of nature in person. In particular, I am reminded of Cait Nishimura, a composer whose music I played in high school band. Her Lake Superior Suite is a collection of five movements “inspired by the landscapes of five provincial and national parks along the northern shoreline of Lake Superior in Ontario, Canada” (Nishimura). The fourth movement, Neys, includes the following program note:
Neys Provincial Park was formerly a prisoner of war camp and a processing site for Japanese-Canadians who were interned and forcibly relocated from British Columbia to Ontario during WWII. Much of the old growth forest was cut down to build the POW camp, and trees were later re-planted in rows. Slow and steady melodic fragments represent the solemn voices of this beautiful but remote location, while the gradual build toward the climax evokes feelings of destruction, anguish, and yearning for peace. Neys is dedicated with love to the composer’s grandparents (Nishimura).
In her music, Ms. Nishimura frequently employs musical elements (dynamics, articulations) to evoke natural phenomena, and her pieces usually connect human life to symbols of nature. Her work, Chasing Sunlight, uses steady eighth notes to represent a sense of urgency, and “lyrical themes depict the warmth and radiance of the sun low in the sky” (Nishimura). Her music allows performers and listeners to connect with nature and her stories (also allowing her to express/connect with her own history), even if they are not in the exact setting she presents—the combined musical elements evoke the sensations as poetic imagery would.
Beyond music, I believe visual arts and literature, clearly depicting the environment’s beauty, can also help an audience connect with nature and their history. Through poetic elements such as imagery and metaphor, literature establishes a relationship between nature and the reader, proving both are valuable. Consider a line from the sixth stanza of Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, “Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.” Comparing grass/earth to a child, and the former mystery of grass in a previous line, suggests nature is both mysterious and inherently valuable, something to respect and appreciate. I connect most with my history through art, and when nature is incorporated into a work, I can interact with both in a way that holds significant meaning for me. And, living in the city, sometimes art is one of the best ways for me to experience nature when all that surrounds me is mostly human made.
Considering everything above, why might the apple orchard be a landscape which informs who I am, or carries my history? Regardless of the level of care the orchard receives from others, I wanted to care for, and respect, the nature of the place. I also recognize how it holds meaning for me. Apples have historically symbolized knowledge, as well as love, two things which I value in my life. The apple orchard, the setting of my fifth date with my girlfriend, is also significant as a place where I felt safe to be my authentic, queer self: a privilege not all people have, but a right I believe everyone deserves. It is because I care about happiness and justice for all people and nature that I wanted to take this class. I hope to make the world better/more inclusive, and that means I must first learn about what inequalities currently exist. That is something I discover through the personal narratives of diverse people. Recognizing Earth’s narrative, through natural phenomenon (storms, fires, etc.), I can understand what changes need to be made to support the globe in healing (nature, animal, and human). I hope to gain knowledge from many perspectives to inform my actions in supporting diversity and inclusivity. In the words of Williams, pertaining to the Navajo oral tradition, “the stories they told animated the country, made the landscape palpable and the people accountable to the health of the land, its creatures, and each other” (4). We can all live better lives if we listen to each other, and find sustainable, respectful solutions so we may heal from previous harm (i.e., environmental degradation, or social inequalities). I hope I can uphold this belief whether I’m sharing my own stories or acknowledging someone else’s experience.
Works Cited
Agarwal, Bina. “The Gender and Environment Debate.” Feminist Studies. Spring 1992. Web. www.jstor.org/stable/3178217. Accessed 18 February 2025.
hooks, bell. “Touching the Earth.” Moral Ground: Ethical Action for a Planet in Peril, Trinity University Press, San Antonio, 2011. pp. 363-368. University of Massachusetts-Dartmouth, myCourses, WGS 307-7101: Ecofeminism: Philosophy & Practice – On-Line (2025 Spring CE1). Accessed 18 February 2025.
Kingsolver, Barbara. “Knowing Our Place.” n.p. n.d. University of Massachusetts-Dartmouth, myCourses, WGS 307-7101: Ecofeminism: Philosophy & Practice – On-Line (2025 Spring CE1). Accessed 18 February 2025.
Nishimura, Cait. “Chasing Sunlight (Piano); Into the Blue; Lake Superior Suite.” Cait Nishimura Music, 2025. caitnishimura.com/. Accessed 18 February 2025.
Whitman, Walt. “Song of Myself.” Leaves of Grass, Norton. Final “Death-Bed” edition. 1892, 1973. Accessed 18 February 2025.
Williams, Terry Tempest. “Home Work.” Red: Passion and Patience in the Desert, kindle edition, Vintage, 2008. pp. 3-19. University of Massachusetts-Dartmouth, myCourses, WGS 307-7101: Ecofeminism: Philosophy & Practice – On-Line (2025 Spring CE1). Accessed 18 February 2025.
n.a. “Minnetonka Orchard.” Minnetonka Orchard, 2024. minnetonkaorchardmn.com/. Accessed 18 February 2025.
I really enjoyed reading your reflection on the apple orchard and how it connects to your personal history. Your analysis of Williams’ “Bedrock Democracy” and Kingsolver’s argument for wildness was thoughtful, and I liked how you tied in different perspectives, including music and literature, to show how city dwellers can still connect with nature. The symbolism of the apple orchard in your life adds a meaningful layer to your post!!