Royal National Park

Nature offers something that society will never be able to offer. It has the capability to bring out the raw human emotions that society tries to replicate through experiences and establishments like dining, cinema, gymnasiums, and places of worship, but nature does it genuinely and effortlessly. For me, nature is religion; it is pure, harmonious, and all encompassing. It is sublime in its ability to be overwhelming, frightening, and dangerous, while also epitomizing peace, hope, and accord. I believe that human nature is a flawed version of mother Earth, much like Christians believe that man is a flawed version of Christ. In this way, I think I may be a Daoist, but have yet to fully explore that religion.

Experiential learning explains, “warm experiences, particularly during the foundational years in child development, can help foster an openness to experience…” (Neill, 2010). I think there is a great deal of truth in this quote, through personal experience and through experiences of my close friends. I moved in New York City in 2001 from a small rural town in Northern California. While I have spent more years of my life as an East Coaster, I was instrumentally shaped by my nine years spent growing up in California, and feel a closer bond with the West Coast than I do with the East. I believe this is because of the “warm experiences” I had growing up on the lush California coast, and which I felt resurface on our hike in Royal National Park.

            On the hike I observed how similar Northern California and Australia’s landscapes are, with thriving greenery, beautiful but cold and shark infested coasts, and very strong sun. Being out in the Bush reminded me of the field trips we used to take to the Bay Area in California. I revisited a sense of childhood jubilance exploring the tide pools and running around the beach with my newfound friends, a feeling that I had not felt in a long time. Dewey consistently argues that education and learning are social and interactive processes, and I wholeheartedly concur. It was the combination of meeting new people who were interested in meeting me too, while being out in the Bush immersed in beautiful surroundings that made my trip at the Royal Park impressionable, productive, and highly pleasurable.

            Henry David Thoreau, an idol of mine, wrote in his transcendentalist novel Walden, “Our life is frittered away by detail.” I thought about this quote on our fieldtrip, especially during our fifteen-minute silent reflection period. As I sat atop that beautiful rock that looked like marzipan, a sort of formation that I had never before encountered, I started to think about the compounds that made up the rock beneath me. About two minutes in, the Thoreau quote surfaced in my thoughts. I then had a realization: why was I focusing on such minute details while a vast ocean, birds, trees, rocks, and a gaping horizon sat before me? It was then that I became very calm, and nature worked its subliminal effects on me. I thought about how harmonious the scene in front of me was, with the ocean fading perfectly into the horizon, the rocks meshing together and aligning with the water. I listened to the natural sounds around me: water crashing, birds subtly gawking, the wind grazing my ears and face. I began to think about how many years these formations had been around, yet still how fresh and youthful it all looked. I began to compare myself to the nature before me. How insignificant I am compared to these formations. They have been around for millions of years, and I for only twenty. How these formations, if they had eyes, would have seen so much. How for all the millions of years they had been around, they retained an essence of purity and sentiment of rebirth. I thought about how I must try to emulate nature and try my best to not grow old or worn down by the years, but rather to grow from my experiences during those years and incorporate those experiences, the good and the bad, into my being.

            My realizations looking out onto the ocean will help me in other aspects of my life, as Dewey would be happy to know. This reflective experience will lead me to other reflective experiences, which will only expand and gain substance continually with time and with increased interaction.

            In Walden, Thoreau recounts the two years he spent living on Walden Pond in Massachusetts. His experiences there were similar (but much more eloquent) to mine at Royal Park. This goes to show how nature has a homogenous message to humanity, which is one of “simplicity, simplicity, simplicity” (Thoreau). There is an unfathomable amount to learn from nature in its untouched form, which I plan to further tap into on our trip to the Blue Mountains. I will end this post with another one of my favorite Thoreau quotes, one that reflects ideas that I find important in life and that articulates the exquisiteness of nature: Perfect sincerity and transparency make a great part of beauty, as in dewdrops, lakes, and diamonds.