The Sun Rises, The Sun Sets

Over all for me, the best time of year is the last of October and early November when the colors have turned to oranges and reds and browns. The air is crisp, even cold. The sky is clear and bright. The sun mixes warm earth colors to shades even more golden than usual.

It all lasts such a brief time and cannot be duplicated the other 50 weeks of the year. Unlike some changes in nature - a stream or patterns formed by tree branches - the effect of autumn leaves and sun will likely return creating similar views.

I can depend and take comfort in this. But other changes, designed and implemented by man, disturb me greatly. For example -

Our federal government is putting "recovery dollars to work." They are repairing much of the stone walls along the Blue Ridge Parkway. This is a necessary effort. The walls were built in the '30s and have begun to crumble. However, this will require the closing of my favorite segment of the Parkway. The entire length of Doughton Park will be inaccessible (there is uncertainty even by the locals whether Bluffs Lodge and Coffee Shop can be reached) for a long two year period.

Many of the photographs that appear in this blog were taken in the park. It even seems the growth of my family over the years has been punctuated by visits and memories shared there.

Times do change. People seem to enjoy nature in its raw form less now than in years past. The bluffs will still be there, the grasses and windblown trees, the families of deer and of course the amazing sunsets.

Change

Change seems to be the topic of choice lately. After all, we are living in times where technology shows no sign of slowing its pace of innovation with promises of machines so powerful, few of us can imagine the culture that will receive them. I attended a workshop recently on “digital natives,” that group of young folks born with laptops and iPods in hand. One message delivered was that information is being sought through video or audio more frequently than not. People would rather view a video clip to remind them how to “cast off” when they take up their knitting project again than read about it. And many would rather listen to a bestseller.

I don’t intend to debate the good or the bad in all this, but to reflect on a few related questions. Why are we so protective of our own experience? Cursive writing is no longer taught in many schools so most everyone prints these days. Is it even necessary to teach people how to write by hand? After all, keyboards communicate the same message, and young adults 25 and under rarely Email anymore, they text. Phones are on hand in greater numbers than computers and pen and paper for that matter.

The paper news industry is drying up. People would rather check Online for their news; it’s more current, cheaper and environmentally responsible. The same writing appears on the wall for the printed book industry as well; digital book publishing is in full swing.

And with that last one I have to groan with fear that in a flash, centuries of knowledge could be lost. Already, we approach an age where thought and correspondence will not outlive their originators. Who keeps old Emails? How will future generations retrace their history or build on prior knowledge? More importantly, who will own knowledge in the future? The man with the “key” to the power plant?

Still, I can’t help but recall the historical initial resistance to the first mechanically printed books. And how did people overcome the fear of writing down traditional story in the first place as opposed to preserving it orally? If you no longer had to memorize and “tell,” it would be forgotten eventually, and you would be at the mercy of the scribes. What if they did not preserve it accurately?

I do not believe the evolution of technology will be governed.

And I am troubled by the fact that on a recent visit to one of our national parks, there were no digital natives sharing a picnic meal with their families under the shade of mountain trees or playing in the golden afternoon sun.

Another Way of Knowing

Very few people realize that Doughton Park is a National Park. It doesn't get the visitors it deserves perhaps because people move at a quicker pace today and require more electronic stimulation. But I have yet to come away from a visit there unfulfilled.




I am grateful for the ability to perceive depth and color and light,




To be drawn beyond myself.





All the evolutionary talk of preserving life in DNA and gradual mutation to bring about change and survival of species,




Doesn't explain for me why man can recognize and interpret beauty.




For there is more to this world than mere existence,




And I can know beauty in these forms without language.