Interpretive Blog - ENVS 3000

Megan Sims-Davies

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Disclaimer

This blog was created for ENVS 3000, University of Guelph.

The opinions expressed here represent my own and not those of the University of Guelph.

The University of Guelph is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by this blog.

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Blog Post 10

While we have discussed an array of factors contributing to effective environmental interpretation this semester, I think the most important aspect is ensuring that interpreters allow everyone to have equal access to nature. There are many aspects that can get between humans and nature, be it financial, physical, or simply time management.

Financial barriers are a factor that many of us may not have considered before our readings in this class. When we think of nature, we see it as one of the few general resources that is accessible to anyone just outside their door. Except one of the most unique aspects of nature is that there is always more to explore. Of course, sitting on a porch and bird watching is one way to interact with nature, as well as going on a hike on a local trail. Yet some may want more! A yearning for adventure and exploration is not something that should be attributed to children, and I believe it is an inherent trait in all of us. As stated by Rodenburg (2019), financial liabilities have dwindled the opportunities for children to be outside in an educative setting from few to nearly none. Opportunities such as field trips are integral to nurturing the sense of adventure and wonder in young children. These trips are also important for families who are unable to provide trips for their children, as they allow for a low-cost adventure with transportation and supervision provided while they are at work throughout the day. I remember one of my favourite field trips as a child was going to a lodge during a very snowy January. We were taught how to snowshoe through the thick layer of snow that was on the ground and trekked all throughout the forests and fields on the property. I remember seeing a field of long grass with a deer that got up and jumped away when it heard the group of kids come by and being told that they liked to stay warm by sleeping close to the ground in the grass!

In addition to financial barriers, I believe that how busy we are in our daily lives makes getting out and enjoying nature a chore for some people. As we get older and begin working, we become engrossed in our daily lives and start to get used to our routines. If someone is supposed to get up early enough to get their children up and ready in the morning, take them to daycare or school, go to work, come home and make dinner, and then put their kids to sleep, where could they possibly find time to enjoy nature? This doesn’t only apply to parents with young kids either. I think we are engrained to think that we simply never have enough time! When our society is built around the absolute need to gain financial capital, it in intertwined into our daily lives, both through the week and on weekends. While it may be easy for us to consider nature a simple resource that is available all around us, many people may see things differently. Every activity needs to be learned, even the simplest activities like hiking or IDing plants takes time to warm up to. People may see this as time that they simply don’t find themselves having!

Finally, the accessibility of interpreting nature is something I had yet to consider before taking this course. One of my favourite chapters was chapter 7, which touched on the diverse array of audiences that interpreters should familiarize themselves with, and how to communicate effectively with them. One of the most beautiful things about nature is the fact that it can potentially be experienced by anyone, and interpreters have the gift to make that happen. The first step in understanding your audience is knowing why they’ve chosen to participate in nature programs to therefore understand the proportion of those who do not (Beck et al, 2018). This is particularly important for audiences who are underserved by interpreters, due to economic, cultural, and communicative barriers (Beck et al, 2018), and it is the responsibility of the interpreter to identify these barriers and tackle them to the best of their abilities. The full enjoyment of nature should be offered by interpreters, especially to those with disabilities that may hinder the enjoyment of traditional interpretation techniques. Offering accessible alternatives for those with mental or physical disabilities is vital for interpreters to serve a diverse audience, especially in a learning environment.

As we begin to wrap up the course, I think I have had a great opportunity to develop my own personal insight on communicating nature in a way that is stimulating, nuanced, and inclusive. I believe it is the responsibility of interpreters to ensure that the information they offer can reach the widest audience possible, including those who initially may shy from the outdoors and natural history. I feel that my beliefs regarding natural history and our environment have greatly broadened as I’ve moved through this course, and the most important aspect that I would emphasize as an interpreter is the ability to communicate what is important to the communities that I am speaking for. Interpreters have the responsibility to speak of the historical significance of many landforms and sites. To accurately represent the communities we speak of, I believe it is important to integrate as many first-hand experiences as possible. When we are unable to offer first-hand experiences, brainstorming with those belonging to marginalized communities and ensuring their stories are heard accurately is extremely important, especially when it comes down to us!

Sources:

Knudson, L.B.T.T.C.D. M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage: For a Better World. Sagamore Publishing LLC. https://sagamore.vitalsource.com/books/9781571678669

Rodenburg, J. (2019, June 17). Why environmental educators shouldn’t give up hope. | CLEARING: PNW Journal of Environmental Education in the Pacific Northwest. Retrieved November 17, 2024, from https://clearingmagazine.org/archives/14300

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Hi Amelia! You post is very well-written and I really appreciate the points you've brought up here. It's so true that nature, while often thought of as a universal resource, isn’t always equally accessible to everyone. Financial barriers can have a huge impact, as you mentioned, especially when it comes to experiences like field trips. I love the memory you shared of your snowshoeing trip—it’s a perfect example of how an immersive experience in nature can spark a deeper connection and leave lasting memories. I have similar ones of my own, they looked very different because of where I grew up, but the lasting effect is much the same. For this reason, I agree that it’s so unfortunate that many kids, especially those from families that can’t afford these opportunities, might miss out on these kinds of formative experiences. This really reinforces how important it is for interpreters to advocate for making these experiences more accessible.

Your point about time is also so relatable. It’s easy for us to take for granted that we can find time to spend in nature, but for many people, their daily routines are packed with responsibilities. I think interpreters have a special role to play here—by offering experiences that don’t require a huge time commitment, or by showing people how to engage with nature in their own neighbourhoods or even backyards, we can help make nature feel more accessible, even in small doses.

I also really agree with your thoughts on accessibility for all. Nature should be something that everyone can enjoy, and that means thinking about the different needs of all visitors. Offering adaptive experiences for people with physical or mental disabilities, for example, is crucial to ensure that no one feels excluded. Nature is something that can be experienced by everyone, and it’s up to interpreters to find ways to make that happen.

And when you talked about the importance of understanding the communities we’re serving, that really stood out to me. It's so easy for interpreters to focus on the science or the "facts," but those facts don’t always tell the full story. Ensuring that the voices of marginalized communities are heard—whether through first-hand experiences or by collaborating with these communities—is such an important part of responsible and effective interpretation.

You’ve done such a great job of highlighting the importance of inclusivity and accessibility in interpretation. I think, by really considering these factors, we can help bridge the gap between people and the natural world in a more meaningful and lasting way. Best of luck on your future interpretation ventures!

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Unit 10: Who am I as an Interpreter?

It would be foolish to deny that I came into this course with some prior experience in nature interpretation. In fact, I feel like we all have, in one way or another. Some of us have had experience delivering formal interpretation, while others have been on the receiving end. Even if we haven’t been exposed to interpretation in a strict sense, I would hope all of us have at least experienced its principles: moments when our minds were provoked in such a way that you are inspired to learn more and think critically (Beck et al., 2018). Interpretation can be about anything, and it is for everyone.

Although I started this course with a foundation of knowledge, I still learned a lot. I learned a lot of technical aspects, like how different forms of art—be it visual, music, theatre, or more—could be incorporated into interpretation, or how the ever-changing technologies of our time are being leveraged to interpret to more people than ever before (Beck et al., 2018). But I think the most valuable things that I learned go a lot deeper than that. I learned about sense-making (Beck et al., 2018). I learned to consider a variety of perspectives and learning styles (Beck et al., 2018). I learned about the role of privilege in our lives (Beck et al., 2018). These are the principles that will guide me along the journey of becoming a truly effective interpreter.

So, where do I stand? Who am I as an interpreter? These are questions that we have revisited time and time again—and have brought me to this point.

As an interpreter, I have a deep belief in making interpretive experiences accessible, educational, and above all else, enjoyable. Nature should not be some exclusive thing—as a species, we would be absolutely nothing without the nature found around us. We come from nature, and we will return to nature. Nature, perhaps, is the only true constant on this planet. Therefore, it belongs to everyone.

With this belief comes responsibility to ensure that nature truly is for everyone, at least to the best of my ability. I realize that there’s no way that I can single-handedly remedy all the systemic inequalities faced by minorities, the financial constraints felt by those just struggling to get by, or the complete undoing of indigenous cultures. But what I can do is recognize my own privileges, and how those may impact my experience of the world around me. Once I do that, I can recognize the barriers that different people may face. After all, it is only through recognition of limitations that solutions can begin to be found! I will strive to be as inclusive as possible, taking into consideration the diversity of backgrounds and experience levels that everyone comes from. From what I have learned, in the world of interpretation, I think it would be a fatal mistake to generalize your audience. Everyone there is a unique individual who has had unique experiences that led them to being there. In front of you. This is of course an honour, but also a huge responsibility. What you do or say could change their life—whether it be in a way that is big or small. While this might feel daunting, it is also endlessly exciting. When you only get one chance to make a first impression, how will you do it?

Given the diversity of audiences and the weight of interpretation’s impact, I think that there is a crucial element of growth as an interpreter that should not be overlooked: the ability to listen. This is something that I will strive to do. There are stories that need to be told, but first we must listen. For me, interpretation should be just as much about hearing stories as it is about sharing them.

So, how will I tell these stories? I think the only way that I can tell stories is by getting excited about them myself. And this is where my own passions and personality come into play. I consider myself a naturalist first and foremost. My greatest joy in life is studying the natural world around us. Going back to my first blog post, I firmly believe that being a naturalist has made me a better interpreter, and vice versa. Why do I say this? As a naturalist, I am able to recognize the individual components of nature and their roles. As an interpreter, I weave these components into a cohesive story. In a sense, this mirrors ecology—the study of interconnected natural systems—but interpretation adds a storytelling dimension that resonates deeply with people. How is that relevant? Well, I think it speaks of the approach I wish to take in interpretation—highlighting the interconnectedness in this world.

I once had interpretation described to me as a circle: you should be able to start at one point, and eventually end right back where you started. I think that is how the human mind functions: always looking for patterns. As an interpreter, I should take advantage of that! These patterns often link back to universal concepts, which are powerful tools to the interpreter. These concepts unite people across cultures and experiences: exactly the dimension of interpretation that this course introduced me to. Universal concepts are the key to unlocking thoughts, fostering connections, and transcending barriers brought about by society. For this reason, the idea of universal concepts is central to my personal ethic as an interpreter.

So, how will I approach future interpretation? I think the clear answer here is with an open mind. Interpretation is a powerful tool—not only for helping people make sense of the world but also for inspiring stewardship of our natural and cultural history. I’m no Freeman Tilden or Sam Ham, but interpretation is a huge part of who I am and who I want to be. Through it, I feel like I can make the world a better place, in my own small way.

References

Beck, L., Cable, T.T., Knudson, D.M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage: For a Better World. Sagamore Publishing LLC. https://sagamore.vitalsource.com/books/9781571678669

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Hi Quentin! Great post, I think it captures the heart of what nature interpretation is all about. I love how you emphasize listening as a key part of the process—it’s such a simple but powerful reminder that sharing stories begins with hearing them first. Your belief that nature isn’t exclusive, and that it belongs to everyone, really resonates. It’s a refreshing perspective that feels especially relevant in a world where access to natural spaces isn’t always equal. The way you acknowledge privilege and barriers shows how thoughtful you are about creating inclusive and meaningful experiences.

I also admire how you connect your naturalist background to interpretation. Seeing nature as a collection of interconnected stories and patterns, and then sharing those connections with others, is such a compelling way to engage people. Your description of interpretation as a circle, where you start and end in the same place, really stuck with me—it’s such a clear and beautiful way to describe how people think and how storytelling works. You’re so right that finding those universal concepts helps bridge differences and create connections that feel personal and profound.

But what stands out most is your passion. It’s obvious that your love for studying the natural world fuels everything you do as an interpreter. That excitement is contagious, and it’s exactly what draws people in and makes them want to learn more. I think your openness to growth and your commitment to making the world a better place, even in small ways, are what will make you an incredible interpreter. Through your curiosity, storytelling, and empathy, you’re already shaping experiences that leave a lasting impact on others—and that’s such an amazing gift to share.

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Unit 10

Describe your personal ethic as you develop as a nature interpreter. What beliefs do you bring? What responsibilities do you have? What approaches are most suitable for you as an individual?

Through writing this blog, I’ve been pushed to develop a more concrete sense of my personal beliefs and ethics within nature interpretation. I’ve found that at the core, I feel nature interpretation is most powerful in its ability to create lasting connections with people and the natural world, rather than simply an avenue for education or entertainment. These were thoughts I brought with me before starting this blog but were immediately reaffirmed in Chapter 1, where Beck et al. (2018) explain how good interpretation expands awareness and understanding, leading to enriched experiences. As such, I continue to view interpretation as a vehicle for connecting diverse audiences with equally diverse aspects of nature, from towering mountains to molehills.

Nested closely with my core beliefs is my personal history, where, as a new Canadian (having only lived here since 2022) I deeply value conversations which highlight the diverse cultural perspectives on nature. From a purely personal standpoint, moving continents meant a VERY steep learning curve in terms of the species I now share spaces with; allowing (aka forcing) me to take things way back to basics and appreciate natural spaces in a way I had certainly taken for granted. For example, even after more than two years, an up-close interaction with a black-capped chickadee in the UofG Arboretum or cautiously passing the neighbourhood skunk on the way back from my mailbox never fail to make me smile, despite being some of the most overlooked species. In a way, I feel this is what makes them most exciting! While settling here has encouraged me to reorient myself to Canadian species and landscapes, it has also encouraged me to explore differing cultural attitudes towards wildlife and conservation. I distinctly remember being saddened but not surprised to learn that the Woodland Caribou (mentioned in an earlier post), which hold great ecological and cultural significance to many Indigenous people, face dire threats of habitat destruction by humans: despite the continued efforts towards their protection by Indigenous communities (Viswanathan, 2023).

Knowing that humans are so frequently directly responsible for the loss of wildlife and subsequently indigenous culture around the world has led me to reflect on my biases. As an interpreter, it is my responsibility to share knowledge in an accessible and captivating way, but also to ensure my delivery and practices are equitable and inclusive. The concept of the “invisible backpack” mentioned in Unit 03 reminds me to consider the varying privileges and barriers people face when accessing natural spaces (McIntosh, 1989). For example, as someone navigating new cultural norms in Canada, I’ve noticed how environmental experiences often reflect dominant cultural values, sometimes overlooking other traditions of engaging with nature. Recognizing this informs my efforts to craft experiences that resonate with diverse audiences and honour multiple ways of knowing; which have led me to realise the power of nature interpretation as a tool for change.

A photo of Buzz, a non-releasable Turkey Vulture at Mountsberg Raptor Centre. Here, he’s ‘sunning’, a common behaviour among vultures where they save energy by using the heat of the sun to maintain homeostatic body temperature.

I am especially drawn to advocating for species that are often misunderstood, like Turkey Vultures. Their scavenging lifestyle means they are commonly associated with death and decay, meaning that many people think they are unpleasant or even ugly! But this species and other scavengers around the world play a vital ecological role; they are nature’s clean-up crew. By consuming and digesting carrion using stomach acid that has a pH slightly above zero, they prevent the spread of disease and help to recycle nutrients back into the environment (Greaney, 2017). By sharing remarkable adaptations like this, I hope to shift perceptions and inspire admiration for a species often dismissed. Advocacy for such misunderstood creatures aligns with my goal of broadening people’s appreciation for all forms of life, even those that might not immediately captivate their attention.

In Unit 2, I learned that I am an auditory learner. As an auditory learner, I can bring a unique perspective to nature interpretation by embracing sound and storytelling as powerful tools to connect people with the natural world. Storytelling through sounds allows me to craft vivid narratives that bring ecosystems and wildlife to life, weaving tales of resilience and interconnection, and lends itself to my particular interest in birds. The bird-nerd phase started young and never left, thanks to these wonderful species. Take a listen!

I love the idea incorporating the sounds of nature into my interpretation, whether it's guiding audiences to pause and listen for a chickadee’s cheerful call or playing recordings of natural phenomena to deepen understanding. I also find the absence of sound to be incredibly moving, for instance in a dense woodland. It’s moments like this where I personally feel most able to connect to nature, and the peace that comes along with it, and I hope to one-day share that with people. Experiences so far have showed me that my strength in active listening helps me engage with audiences, valuing their insights and tailoring my delivery to species or phenomena they can relate to; encouraging dialogue that fosters a collaborative experience. My aim is that using these approaches allows me to share my passion for nature in a way that reflects some of my personality, while also resonating with others and leaving lasting impressions.

Ultimately, my personal ethic as a nature interpreter is rooted in curiosity—sparking a sense of wonder in others while encouraging them to explore the natural world with open minds. My experiences as a new Canadian, my fascination with misunderstood species like turkey vultures, and my dedication to inclusive storytelling inspire me to approach this work with my own curiosity and wonder. Whatever the medium, I strive to create experiences that ignite curiosity and invite audiences to ask questions, make connections, and see nature in new ways. I am lucky to have already gained experience in this field, but as I continue to grow, I hope to refine this ethic by keeping my passion fuelled by learning of others’ perspectives and new experiences.

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Beck, L., Cable, T.T., & Knudson, D.M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage for a Better World. Sagamore Publishing.

Greaney, D. (2017). Vultures have the pH for public health. Record Searchlight. Retrieved 14 November 2024, from https://www.redding.com/story/life/2017/07/26/vultures-have-ph-public-health/504630001/

McIntosh, P. (1989). White privilege: Unpacking the invisible knapsack. Peace and Freedom Magazine, 10–12.

My Birding Year (Director). (2021, January 29). UK Garden Bird Identification Guide—Bird Names and Songs [Video recording]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfLIYOh8qEU

Viswanathan, L. (2023, May 15). Indigenous-led Conservation of Caribou. Indigenous Climate Hub. https://indigenousclimatehub.ca/2023/05/indigenous-led-conservation-of-caribou/

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Blog Post #8: The Interconnectedness of Nature

One theme that continues to reappear in my blog is the theme of interconnectedness - an intricate web that keeps nature in harmony. When I’m immersed in nature, this idea is always in the back of my mind. I see it in the way trees sway in the wind, in the way their leaves cling to the branches. I feel it beneath my feet, where there’s a hidden world of roots spreading outward, reaching through the soil for all the beneficial nutrients. And within that soil is an entire ecosystem of microorganisms, all working together to support life aboveground. It’s incredible to think about how each piece of this complex system - soil, plants, trees, animals - depends on and nurtures the others. When I pause and imagine this web of life, I am always dumbfounded at how perfectly everything fits together.

A portrayal of interconnectedness that has always stuck with me is in the movie Avatar (one of my favourite movies, by the way!). In it, the main character, Jake Sully, is intrigued by the bond the Na’vi people have with their environment. For them, the forest is alive with energy that connects every living thing. This energy flows through the roots of the trees, into the ground, through each creature, and back again, which represents a cycle of life and growth that Jake tries his best to understand. Although we don’t live on the futuristic planet of Pandora, the respect and harmony the Na’vi have with their surroundings feels deeply relevant to our world, where we also have our own intricate connections to nature.

Consider the relationship between bees and flowering plants: bees rely on flowers for nectar, and in turn, they carry pollen from one blossom to another, allowing plants to reproduce. This tiny but mighty interaction sustains entire ecosystems, and without pollinators like bees, many of the plants that humans and other animals rely on wouldn’t exist. Or think of a forest after a wildfire; although it's destructive, fires can create fertile conditions for new growth. Seeds that may have been dormant for years can sprout in the nutrient-rich soil left behind, which helps the forest to flourish once again. The cycle of destruction and rebirth helps to maintain balance, symbolizing nature’s resilience and interconnectedness.

It’s amazing to recognize how every organism, from the tiniest insect to the tallest tree, plays a unique role in nature. Even organisms we may find inconvenient, like funghi or mosquitoes, contribute to this balance. Understanding that nature isn’t a series of isolated actions, but rather a symphony of interactions is a profound realization. Each element - sounds, textures, etc. - contributes to the whole. The textbook describes lifelong learning as an essential to interpreting nature, encouraging us to design educational experiences that help people appreciate these connections and inspire them to protect natural environments (Beck et al., 2018). I believe that by exploring the beauty and unity in nature, we can gain a deeper appreciation for the intricate connections that hold our world together.

The beautiful view of fall leaves on my walk earlier this week!

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., Knudson D. M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage: For a Better World. Sagamore-Venture Publishing LLC.

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Hey Emma, great post! I think it brings the theme of interconnectedness to life so vividly! I love how you capture the hidden complexity of nature, showing how everything—soil, plants, animals, microorganisms—works in perfect harmony. You’ve illustrated how interconnectedness is everywhere, from the roots beneath our feet to the cycle of life that enables a forest to regenerate after a wildfire. These details make it easy to appreciate nature as a system where every part, even those we might overlook, plays a crucial role. My post this week was about migration, and I think that could be considered an enormous display of interconnectedness; allowing nutrients and energy to move between ecosystems through a collective instinct to travel in search of various things. I find it completely awe-inspiring!

Your reference to Avatar is powerful, and much appreciated too; it’s one of my favourite movies of all time!! The Na'vi’s relationship with their environment is an incredible reminder of the importance of respect and harmony within nature. It’s inspiring to think that, like the Na'vi, we also belong to an interconnected world and that we can learn from this relationship. In our ecosystems, we have our own webs of life—bees and flowers, trees and soil—working together to sustain life. When we pause to recognize these connections, as you do so thoughtfully in your blog, it invites us to care for these relationships and the planet itself.

The way you connect this theme to lifelong learning resonates, too. As Beck and colleagues suggest, helping others to see and appreciate these intricate links can spark curiosity and deepen people’s connection to nature. Beyond the examples you’ve given, was there a particular moment in nature that sparked your awareness of interconnectedness? Your reflections are a reminder that by understanding the delicate balance within ecosystems, we’re also inspired to protect them.

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Beck, L., Cable, T. T., Knudson D. M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage: For a Better World. Sagamore-Venture Publishing LLC.

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Unit 9

This week, I’ve been missing the familiar sight of a family of Turkey Vultures on my commute to work since they left on their migration a few weeks ago. Personally, I think that migration is one of nature’s most awe-inspiring phenomena. How so many species experience the same instinctive drive that pushes them to travel thousands of kilometres across land, air, and sea. I feel this powerful journey showcases the resilience, endurance, and adaptability of countless species. From the high-flying bar-headed geese scaling the Himalayas to the mass movements of monarch butterflies fluttering from Canada to Mexico, migrations knit ecosystems together, dispersing nutrients, supporting predators, and connecting habitats across vast distances.

Perhaps one of the most iconic migrations is that of the wildebeest in East Africa. Each year, over a million wildebeest, alongside zebras and antelopes, trek a circuit spanning over 1,200 miles across the Serengeti and Masai Mara. Their movement follows rainfall patterns, ensuring they find fresh grass to graze. As they migrate, they face countless perils – from crocodile-infested rivers to prowling lions. Despite these dangers, their collective movement fuels an entire ecosystem, supporting predators, scavengers, and even the soils and plant life they leave behind.

In the ocean, migrations can be even more astonishing. Humpback whales, for example, embark on some of the longest journeys of any mammal, swimming up to 5,000 miles from their summer feeding grounds in polar regions to warmer tropical waters, where they breed and give birth. Salmon, too, undertake epic voyages from the sea back to the rivers where they were born. Driven by instinct, they navigate through fresh and saltwater, using Earth’s magnetic field and even their sense of smell to find their way. Their journey supports bears, birds, and entire river ecosystems, bringing nutrients from the ocean back inland.

A picture of a common tern I took while visiting Nova Scotia over the summer.

Even on a smaller scale, migrations can be incredible. Take the red crabs on Christmas Island, which, by the millions, make a synchronized migration from the forests to the coast to lay their eggs in the ocean. This spectacle is so monumental that roads are closed to allow the crabs safe passage. And then there’s the awe-inspiring monarch butterfly migration, a multigenerational journey spanning thousands of miles. Monarchs east of the Rockies migrate to a small mountainous region in central Mexico, where they cluster by the millions in the oyamel fir forests to survive the winter. This incredible migration is unique among insects and is fuelled by an innate sense of direction that scientists are still working to fully understand.

Unfortunately, over a fifth of the world’s migratory species are not at risk of extinction (Ogutu, 2024). Currently, under the UN’s ‘Convention on the Conservation of Migratory Species of Wild Animals’ 1189 of the 4508 species classified as migratory are listed as endangered. This has been largely attributed to habitat disruption or destruction by humans, both in their migration and non-migration ranges. Therefore, I’ve taken this week’s post as an opportunity to share a little about migration in the hopes that those reading may think more deeply into the ways we impact the spaces of the animals around us.

Migration is a story of survival, driven by ancient instincts and refined by evolution. It shows how closely connected all life is, how the needs of one species can influence entire ecosystems. Migration is a reminder of the deep-rooted drive to endure, thrive, and adapt, no matter the distance, hardship, or danger. For many species, migration is not just a journey but a way of life, a pattern that’s shaped by forces as old as the Earth itself. And as we learn more about these migrations, we gain new appreciation for the interconnectedness of the natural world and the incredible feats of endurance life is capable of.

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References

Ogutu, J. (2024, February 12). Migrating animals face collapsing numbers – major new UN report. The Conversation. http://theconversation.com/migrating-animals-face-collapsing-numbers-major-new-un-report-223115

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Blog Post #7: Where is music in nature? Where is nature in music?

As a follow-up (focus on the above two before you tackle this one), what song takes you immediately back to a natural landscape? What is the context? Share it with us – I would imagine many of these ideas may have similar underpinnings of a campfire, roadtrip, backpacking journey, etc.!

When I think of music in nature, my mind immediately conjures the image of myself standing in the heart of a dense forest. The rustling of leaves, the varied calls of birds, and the wind threading its way through the trees create a harmonious tapestry, each sound is a note in nature’s ongoing melody. These sounds are far more than background noise, they compose a symphony where every element plays a critical role in maintaining the integrity of the ecological narrative unfolding around us. Musical sounds in nature like whale songs and bird songs follow structured patterns that are similar to human compositions (Gray et al., 2001). The idea that humpback whale songs share similarities with human music, such as repetition, rhythm, and even rhyme, illustrates the deep connections between species through sound (Gray et al., 2001). Nature, it seems, is full of music if we choose to listen.

This is a picture I captured when I visited Toronto Islands. As you can see, there is a pathway that led me into this forested area. I found myself sitting here for a few minutes taking in the sounds of nature. In that moment, I was immersed by a sense of peace and calm, as the nature around me seemed to have a quiet refuge, offering a deep connection of the moment and the surrounding environment.

Have you ever wondered where nature finds its voice in music? In many ways, music is a reflection of the natural world. Its rhythms and patterns mirroring those found in the environment around us. Consider, for example, the incredible work of wildlife DJ Ben Mirin, whose art shows us that nature and human creativity are not so separate. Mirin’s fusion of birdsongs with beatboxing reminds us that the sounds of nature are woven into our musical expressions. Through this blend, we begin to experience wildlife in a new way, listening not just as passive observers but as active participants in a dialogue between species. His work fosters a deeper connection to the various species we share this planet with, inviting us to appreciate their voices in a way that transcends visual encounters. Through sound, I believe we build empathy, understanding, and a sense of wonder for the life that thrives just beyond our immediate senses.

As interpreters, we are called to create meaningful connections between people and nature, and music is a powerful tool for this. Tilden's principle that interpretation is an art, one that combines many arts, is embodied in the blending of music with nature. Whether it’s the drumming of a palm cockatoo or the intricate song of a canyon wren, these musical expressions offer a gateway into understanding and appreciating the environment (Gray et al., 2001).

When thinking of what song instantly transports me back to the heart of a natural landscape, I would say its Donchano by Steve Lacy. I was nestled in the passenger seat of my boyfriend’s car when I first heard this song. In the vibrant season of summer, my favorite time of year, the rhythm of this song would echo through the car, playing on repeat during our long road trips out of town, harmonizing with the rolling landscapes and endless horizons outside the window. The rhythm and pacing of the song, with its gentle, mellow groove, symbolizes the serene moments I spend in nature. It’s also the song's smooth blend of soulful guitar riffs and ambient production that brings me back to the warmth of a summer sunset. 

Nature’s music not only entertains but educates. It connects us to species across the globe, revealing the shared rhythms of life. By tuning into these natural melodies, we can inspire others to see the beauty and integrity of the world around them, leading them to become stewards of the land (Beck et al., 2018). In every call, rustle, and whistle, nature reminds us that music has always been here, and we are just one part of the song.

References:

Beck, L., Cable, T.T., & Knudson, D.M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage for a Better World. Sagamore Publishing.

Gray, P. M., Krause, B., Atema, J., Payne, R., Krumhansl, C., & Baptista, L. (2001). The Music of Nature and the Nature of Music. Science, 291(5501), 52. https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/A69270354/AONE?u=guel77241&sid=bookmark-AONE&xid=fb9366a8

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Hi Khushi! I love how you bring us right into the heart of the forest, experiencing nature as an immersive symphony. I feel that it’s rare nowadays to think that the rhythmic rustling of leaves or the structured songs of birds aren’t just background noise, but intentional sounds that contribute to the ecological narrative around us. You’ve emphasized how these natural sounds are more than just ambiance; they are an integral part of life’s composition, one where each sound has a purpose.

Your mention of Ben Mirin’s work highlights the incredible potential of music to foster connection and empathy for the natural world. Mirin’s art exemplifies how music can bridge gaps in understanding, allowing us to “listen” to wildlife with a renewed sense of awareness and appreciation. This blending of nature’s sounds with human creativity can make the unfamiliar feel familiar and foster a deeper connection with species that may otherwise feel distant. You’re right that music becomes a gateway for many people, an access point that invites them to experience nature actively rather than passively. Do you have any experience with making music / playing an instrument personally that might’ve helped you shape this perspective?

And your connection to Steve Lacy’s Donchano adds such a personal touch, grounding your thoughts on nature and music in a memorable experience that many can relate to – the feeling of freedom on a summer road trip, accompanied by the perfect soundtrack. Music and nature both evoke nostalgia in their way, and it’s beautiful how a single song can instantly transport you back to those peaceful, rolling landscapes, as if you’re still right there in that moment.

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Unit 7

Where is music in nature? Where is nature in music?

As a follow-up (focus on the above two before you tackle this one), what song takes you immediately back to a natural landscape? What is the context? Share it with us – I would imagine many of these ideas may have similar underpinnings of a campfire, roadtrip, backpacking journey, etc.!

-

In my mind music and nature are deeply intertwined, coexisting in ways that can feel both universal and intensely personal.

Nature often expresses itself through patterns and sounds that reflect music's essential elements: rhythm, melody, and harmony. The gentle cadence of ocean waves or the complex calls of birds have been shaping human musical expression for centuries. For instance, indigenous music traditions around the world have always mimicked sounds from their natural surroundings. Through music, these cultures tell stories about their land, the animals they coexist with, and the cycles of life and death. These aren’t just songs – they are essential oral histories, helping preserve the knowledge and culture that connects people to place. Known as the Land and People of Song, music is key in Welsh culture. Often, important historical events and cultural eras are documented through song. Take this one for example, Yma o hyd (literal translation: Still Here):

This song now features as part of the songs and chants sung by the Welsh crowds at sports events (most famously rugby games) but was commonly sung by coal miners to pass time during their long shifts underground, and depicts some of the nation’s history and its colonization by England.

But where is nature in music? Often, nature’s presence in modern music is conceptual, a means of bringing listeners to specific landscapes or even specific mindsets. Folk, country, and rock music genres often include references to natural landscapes to evoke feelings of nostalgia, freedom, or longing. In these songs, nature serves as a setting where stories unfold and emotions are amplified. However, I feel that modern listeners can lose sight of these deep ties. We’ve become accustomed to experiencing nature from afar, through digital platforms or curated media, and in this sense, we suffer from learned incapacity – the gradual loss of our natural instincts and abilities.

As natural landscapes are commodified and “preserved” in manicured, controlled environments, how we connect with nature changes. Is listening to a recording of a waterfall the same as sitting beside it? Some would argue no, emphasizing the importance of natural authenticity. While others, like myself, can also see the value in bringing nature into controlled spaces to increase accessibility. Music is often caught in this tension – is music inspired by nature still natural if it’s recorded in a studio, heavily edited, then shared and consumed in urban spaces?

The right song can transport you to a specific landscape, unlocking memories and sensory experiences embedded in that place. For me, Lizzy McAlpine’s song To the Mountains somewhat ironically reminds me of my first few weeks living in Canada. I say this is ironic because I moved from an area with mountains, to one without. The melody and cadence of this song (rising and falling) remind me greatly of the rolling hills I took entirely for granted before moving away, while the lyrics are a particularly obtuse reminder of the solace I seek in nature. There is an element of comfort in knowing that this is a more universal practice than it may seem from my experiences as the ‘weird nature kid’.

Telling stories through music or nature can reawaken dormant memories and bridge our learned disconnect from nature. By sharing these moments, we create a lasting impact, whether it’s a campfire tune or the experience of listening to nature’s symphony on a hike. Both forms have an unspoken harmony that invites us to reconnect, reflect, and remember the landscapes that shape us.

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UNIT 6 BLOG POST

“There is no peculiar merit in ancient things, but there is merit in integrity, and integrity entails the keeping together of the parts of any whole, and if these parts are scattered throughout time, then the maintenance of integrity entails a knowledge, a memory, of ancient things. …. To think, feel, or act as though the past is done with, is equivalent to believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it.” — Edward Hyams, Chapter 7, The Gifts of Interpretation

Hyams emphasizes that integrity relies on both an understanding and a memory of the past. The past is not merely a collection of outdated relics; rather, it forms a continuous whole with the present and future. Forgetting the past or treating it as irrelevant weakens our ability to maintain integrity because the past is woven into our current experiences, just as different parts of a whole remain connected across time.

American Indian Knowledge - Crow Canyon Archaeological Center

This idea aligns with a quote from the Cartography Series (2019): “Historical interpretation grounded in individual histories facilitates connection between lived experiences and archival records or artifacts.” By recognizing and interpreting historical events, we build a bridge between the experiences of those who came before us and the present, ensuring that their contributions remain relevant and influential.

For example, early naturalists and historians laid the foundation for how we understand and interpret the world today. Their findings, observations, and records have been passed down, allowing us to continue learning from them. Faithfully interpreting these records helps us keep their knowledge and insights “alive,” contributing to our ongoing understanding of the world. A great illustration of this can be seen in the Unit 6 video, where Robert Sutton discusses incorporating a wider range of stories into the narrative of U.S. national parks. By including more diverse characters and perspectives in historical accounts, we can preserve the full history of these places.

Hyams’ opening statement, “There is no peculiar merit in ancient things,” reminds us that age alone does not grant value. Something isn’t valuable simply because it’s old. He argues that true merit lies in integrity—the preservation and recognition of the essential parts of something over time (ex. preserving the full history of a place). Integrity allows us to maintain knowledge and appreciation of past events, ensuring they remain meaningful.

A powerful example of this in practice is the history of logging in Algonquin Park. Logging has deep roots in the park’s history, and it continues today. Significant efforts have been made to preserve and share this history through guided tours, museums,  interpretive trails, and events that highlight the role logging has played in shaping the park's landscape. By maintaining the integrity of this history, visitors gain a deeper understanding of the park and can fully immerse themselves in it's story.

Logging for square timber (white and red pine) began about 1830 when James Wadsworth obtained a timber licence to cut red pine from Round La

Algonquin Provincial Park trip planning information, the latest news, upcoming programs, donation and membership information, opportunities

The final part of Hyam's quote, where he uses the metaphor of a railway station, illustrates the ongoing relevance of the past. Just because we’ve passed through a place (or a moment in time) doesn’t mean it ceases to exist or matter. The station still exists after our train has left, just as the past continues to shape the present. By acknowledging the influence of historical events or practices, we can better understand the natural world today. Whether it's the logging history of Algonquin Park or the civil war history of the United States, historical interpretation is a vital tool. As noted in Unit 6, it allows individuals to form personal identities by connecting with inspiring or thought-provoking stories from the past, while also helping guide their values in the present.

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Hi Evan! Great post, I really like the way you were able to incorporate resources right into your post – it made the reading experience quite interesting.

I enjoyed your expansion on the idea that integrity is rooted in both understanding and remembering the past. It reminds me of how we can’t fully appreciate where we are now without recognizing where we’ve come from. I find it fascinating that historical interpretation links past experiences with the present, especially when it comes to places like national parks like Algonquin Park. The way the history of logging is preserved through interpretive trails and guided tours shows that these stories aren’t just forgotten relics—they’re alive, helping us understand the land and the people who shaped it. Out of curiosity, what sparked your interest in Algonquin’s logging history (beyond its significance within the park)?

Hyams’ metaphor of the railway station is one I’ve not heard before. I agree that it’s aiming to show that the past continues to shape us even after we’ve passed through a certain moment or place. The stories we encounter don’t just disappear; they linger and influence us. It’s a reminder that history isn’t something we leave behind; it’s something that follows us, influencing how we see the world and our role in it.

This makes me think about how we can apply this idea to our daily lives. By preserving what matters—whether it’s a tradition, a story, or a piece of nature—we ensure that the past doesn’t fade away. I feel that the more we recognize the value of the past, the more connected we become to it, and the better we understand where we’re going. How do you think can we ensure that important history (good or bad) doesn’t get lost, especially in a world that’s constantly moving forward? Do you think nature interpretation could play a role in that?

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Unit 6

‘There is no peculiar merit in ancient things, but there is merit in integrity, and integrity entails the keeping together of the parts of any whole, and if these parts are scattered throughout time, then the maintenance of integrity entails a knowledge, a memory, of ancient things. …. To think, feel or act as though the past is done with, is equivalent to believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it.’ - (Edward Hyams, Chapter 7, The Gifts of Interpretation)

Edward Hyams’ quote from The Gifts of Interpretation really resonated with me, especially as someone who enjoys natural history but also learning about my own. His argument that there’s no inherent merit in ancient things, but that true value lies in integrity—the ability to hold things together over time—feels deeply relevant to the work I hope to do in the future.

When Hyams talks about integrity requiring knowledge of the past, I immediately think about the Woodland Caribou, a species that initially caught my attention as part of a course but have since held a bit of a grip on me. The caribou population has been dwindling, and understanding their current situation isn’t just about knowing their numbers today. It’s about piecing together their story—the ways Indigenous communities have lived alongside them for generations followed by the changes to their habitat, and the impacts of human activity. To me, that’s what Hyams is getting at: the past is always part of the present. To ignore it would be like believing that something only exists while you’re looking at it and ceases to exist the moment you turn away.

Woodland Caribou by John E Marriott

For me, this idea of maintaining integrity over time can work its way deeply into the work of nature interpreters. When we talk to people about the natural world, it’s not just about pointing out a tree or an animal and listing statistics about their weight, wingspan, prey, and so on. It’s about telling the full story, and that often means going back in time, helping people see how landscapes, species, and even human relationships with nature have changed.

Hyams’ idea of integrity also made me reflect on the role privilege plays in this work. Not everyone has access to their past, or even to nature, in the same way. In the field of nature interpretation, this is something I’m becoming more aware of thanks to this course. For instance, many Indigenous stories and histories have been overlooked or erased from conservation narratives, yet these stories are critical to understanding the land and species we see today. As interpreters, we have a responsibility to include those voices and acknowledge the power dynamics that have shaped the stories we tell.

As mentioned in one of my previous post, privilege also shows up in who gets to enjoy natural spaces and how they are interpreted. Growing up, I was lucky to have access to parks and green spaces, which made nature feel like home to me. But I realize not everyone has that connection, either due to economic barriers, racial discrimination, or even the simple fact that urban environments don’t always make nature feel accessible. When interpreting nature, I want to help bridge that gap and make the past—and the natural world—feel relevant and important to everyone, no matter their background.

Hyams’ reflection on the past is a reminder that when we disregard history, we lose something essential about the present. As nature interpreter, I would like to honour that integrity by keeping the connections alive—not just between species or ecosystems, but between people and their stories as well.

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Blog Post #5: Finding Joy in the Chill of Winter

Hey everyone! For this week’s blog, something that has been on my mind recently has been the soon-approaching cold weather. As someone who thrives during summer and fall, the thought of winter can feel discouraging. Over the past few weeks, temperatures have already dropped, and I find myself dreading the long, chilly months ahead. I sometimes refer to myself as a plant that needs sunshine to function properly, and without it, I don’t always feel my best. The shorter days also contribute to my worries about winter as the fewer hours of daylight seem to make me feel more unmotivated. I’ve struggled with seasonal depression in the past, and to get a bit vulnerable, I’ve been feeling anxious about the possibility of slipping back into that mindset. Speaking about this topic is tough, but I know that I’m not alone in these feelings, which is why I’m open to starting a conversation about it! 

With this in mind, I’ve been reflecting on how I’m feeling recently, and have come to realize the importance of staying connected with nature, even when it’s cold outside. During winter, surrounding ourselves in natural environments can ground us, and can provide a sense of calm and clarity. Although it’s easy to stay inside and hibernate - which is something I’ve done in the past - I now see how crucial it is to embrace the outdoors, even if it means bundling up in many layers of clothing. 

I’ve been brainstorming ways to stay connected with nature during this winter, and a surefire way would be to keep going on my walks around the neighbourhood. This is something I used to do with my family during the pandemic, and I always found it super refreshing. The cold air and peaceful surroundings brought me a sense of calm and contentment. Going for a stroll and enjoying the sun whenever it’s out can be a great mood booster, and getting some exercise would shake off any sluggish feelings too. Another idea would be to try out seasonal activities to bring some fun and excitement to the winter months. There are lots of fun options, like building a snowman, or baking Christmas cookies, or even trying out a winter sport like skiing or snowboarding. Taking part in these activities would offer great opportunities to bond with friends and family. Whether it would be from starting a snowball fight, or laughing with each other while on the slopes, these little moments can help us find joy and appreciate the natural wonders of winter. 

Taking a stroll on campus earlier this year!

Those are just a few suggestions for staying connected with nature, which is truly essential for our physical and emotional well-being. As nature interpreters, we can learn to appreciate the unique beauty of winter, and reflect on the deeper meanings behind the changing seasons. I hope to have inspired others to find joy in winter, and nurture their connection with nature, no matter how chilly it gets!

[msdenvs3000f24]

Hi Emma!

I can relate to your feelings about winter! It can be tough when you're someone who thrives on sunshine and warmth, especially when you come from across the Atlantic where the winters are much less harsh! But I love how you're reframing the season by finding ways to stay connected with nature. Embracing the outdoors, even in colder weather, is such a great approach to maintaining your well-being, especially as busy students. Your mention neighbourhood walks is very familiar, it’s been something I’ve done for quite some time and was a big help in starting to feel at home in Southern Ontario. You’re right in there being something about the crisp air and peacefulness of winter can indeed be refreshing, and I find that those walks often leave me feeling much more grounded.

The suggestion to try out seasonal activities is a wonderful reminder that there are unique opportunities to enjoy in each season. Sometimes, a simple shift in focus—like appreciating the beauty of snow or sharing fun moments with loved ones—can make all the difference in how we experience winter. Skiing, snowball fights, or even cozy indoor activities like baking can help keep that connection to nature alive in a different but equally fulfilling way.

Your openness about seasonal depression is also really important. I think many people feel similarly and might be encouraged by your words to find their own paths toward appreciating the winter season. You're fostering a sense of community around this, and that vulnerability can be so powerful. I admire your mindset and hope you continue to find joy in the little things as the winter approaches!

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Unit 5

Free writing this week - what have you been thinking about?

This week I’ve been thinking a lot about the 2024 eBird Taxonomy Update. Though this may be showing my bird-nerd habits too plainly, it got me thinking in more depth about the way that nature and science interpretation is continually adapted to emerging scientific information, which has the potential to undermine the work of many interpreters that come before us.

The most poignant part of this year’s Update for me is the reclassification of species in the genus Accipiter, as I am lucky enough to spend my weekends caring for birds and interpreting to the public at Mountsberg Raptor Centre (around 30 minutes south of Guelph). Accipiters are one of the genera that falls under the ‘hawk’ umbrella and until recently three Accipiter species could be found in Ontario; the Sharp-shinned Hawk (SSHA), the Cooper’s Hawk (COHA), and the American/Northern Goshawk (NOGO). However, as the Taxonomy Update outlines, new insights gleaned from genetic analyses have led to the determination that Accipiters are not a monophyletic group and should therefore be reclassified. They lack the close ancestral relationships typically found within raptor genera, like the Strix owls, for example. As such, the group has experienced a split (long-awaited, for some) with nine formerly Accipiter species moving to genus Astur (from the Latin ‘asturis’ meaning ‘hawk’). Astur hawks are to be distinguished from Accipiters by their bulky size (particularly of their feet), flight pattern, and vocalization similarity.

Now, what does this mean for raptor enthusiasts in Ontario? To be honest, not much in a practical sense. Both the SSHA and COHA can be commonly found in southern Ontario, often seen hunting around backyard bird feeders, but are notoriously difficult to distinguish from one another.

Left – Adult SSHA; Right – Adult COHA (Lund, 2015).

Their appearance alone fuels the questions of some enthusiasts about recent changes. Namely that COHAs have moved to Astur while SSHAs remain one of just six ‘true’ Accipiters.

The hope is that the new classification will encourage field identifications to be made based on differing behaviour and posture, rather than the often ambiguous or even plainly unhelpful size difference.

All this considered, I have been thinking back on one of our earlier blog prompts about the skills of an ideal interpreter, and how I feel it is important for a nature interpreter to share accurate information about the sights, sounds, and species they’re talking about – particularly, one who is leaning on the sciences as context to their interpretation. To an extent, I enjoy the freedom of being able to share a more personal interpretation of what I’m seeing, but I am also of the opinion that nature interpretation carries a certain responsibility, and so sharing information that is as true and current as possible is vital. Perhaps this point of view stems from experiences interpreting specifically for younger audiences with the intention that they learn, remember, and carry with them key characteristics about the species they share spaces with. As such, a more personal overarching goal is guiding them towards coexistence with these species, so I find truth and scientific accuracy to be the smoothest route.

-- References --

eBird – Cornell Lab of Ornithology (2024). 2024 Taxonomy Update. Retrieved 11 October 2024, from https://ebird.org/ebird/news/2024-taxonomy-update

Lund, N. (2015). A Beginner’s Guide to IDing Cooper’s and Sharp-Shinned Hawks | Audubon Magazine. Retrieved 11 October 2024, from https://www.audubon.org/news/a-beginners-guide-iding-coopers-and-sharp-shinned-hawks

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Unit 4 Blog Post

Hi Everyone :)

With one of my minors being Art History, I have learned to be more of a critical thinker when it comes to interpreting art and nature’s involvement in many of the pieces we view today. How many of these artworks are ethical, original, and ephemeral? I try my best to see the beauty in nature through art, while also giving myself the grace to understand the backstory to the piece/landscape. With today being the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation (Orange Shirt Day), I’ll touch on Indigenous art and how we’ve done a disservice to Indigenous talent in Canada’s art world.

In terms of the Group of Seven who really put Canada on the map via showcases in predominantly Canada, The United States, and Europe. Their art expanded worldwide and pretty much dominated galleries in Canada for decades, pushing out other artists and Indigenous works. In hindsight we can understand that their more popular pieces did not exactly depict Canada for what it was at the time. Many of their landscapes were painted in Algonquin, Algoma, and out West; where major logging and pollution was occurring. Some of the artists painted scenes of Indigenous communities, but failed to represent the cultural genocide and residential schools tearing those families apart. Canada was depicted as this abandoned land, solely made up of landscapes and tranquility. Moving forward we can look into Indigenous artists to learn about how they interpret nature through art and the concept of ‘the gift of beauty’ through their lens. 

Interpreting art in nature is a great way to hit more than one of the learning styles. Even in a gallery setting, a painting can target visual learners, the plaque can offer a description for the readers/writers, and there are auditory options available in most galleries. We can also achieve this in nature interpretation; using multiple learning styles can enhance the ‘art’ aspect of nature and allow us to encompass some additional information to a picturesque landscape. This notion ties into the ‘gift of beauty’ and how there is more than meets the eye when it comes to understanding nature through art. 

The importance of immersing ourselves in nature is exemplified in Hahn’s Social Declines of Modern Youth. I feel like the use of social media and abundant technology is the culprit of these ‘social diseases’. We are all so accustomed to being able to see whatever we want, whenever we want it. We can google any image of nature and get a million different vantage points of it. I think this allows us to sometimes take for granted the fact that we could go outside and see the beauty of nature with our own two eyes. A big factor in experiencing nature in person is the stimulation of the senses; as opposed to only sight and maybe sound when we view something online. By stimulating all 5 senses in person, the experience becomes more holistic and memorable. 

Got off my phone and walked around the Arboretum this summer!

We can only learn from our mistakes as people and as a country. Understanding equality in art, risk in nature, and beauty in our daily lives, is built through the experiences of others; we simply have to listen. 

[msdenvs3000f24]

Hi there!

I really appreciate your thoughtful reflection on interpreting nature through art, especially when you brought up Indigenous perspectives. The Group of Seven played such a large role in shaping how people saw Canada, but like you said, their work also overlooked a lot—especially the realities of pollution, logging, and cultural erasure happening at the time. It’s eye-opening to think about how Indigenous artists were pushed aside, and how important it is to look at those same landscapes from their perspectives, honouring the deep cultural and spiritual connections to the land. Thank you for leading me to reflect on this!

You also made a great point about how different learning styles can enhance the way we interpret art and nature. It’s very true that when we engage more senses—whether through looking at a painting or actually standing in a forest—we connect on a much deeper level. It’s not just about what we see; it’s about what we feel, hear, smell, and even touch.

I agree with your thoughts on technology for the most part. You are right in alluding to the idea that we’re so used to seeing beautiful nature images online that we forget what it’s like to experience them in person. It’s easy to take for granted the real thing when you can pull up a million photos with a quick search. But nothing compares to actually being there — feeling the wind, hearing the rustling of leaves, and taking it all in with your own senses. Those experiences are what stay with us the longest. However, I do think technology is valuable in extending the beauty of nature into the spheres of audiences that may not be fortunate enough to experience some of the more spectacular scenes that nature has to offer (i.e., large mountain peaks, vast forests, or species endemic to faraway places).

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Unit 4

Who are you to interpret nature through art? How do you interpret “the gift of beauty”? (Your readings – specifically Chapter 5 of the textbook – will be helpful for this!)

Interpreting through art creates an alternative avenue for audiences to connect with or understand what an interpreter is sharing. For this reason, I feel that art is an incredibly useful interpretation tool across all disciplines (not just nature or the environment). I think art can be utilised to widen or diversify the audiences for nature interpretation to include groups which may not be able to experience natural beauty in the same way you or I might.

On mentioning beauty, I feel the ‘gift of beauty’ in the context of nature can be found anywhere and everywhere. I’m of the opinion that beauty and nature are somewhat synonymous, in that both inspire a similar kind of awe. I can think of a few occasions where I have felt true, unfiltered, awe so far in my life and many of them were in nature. Most recently, I felt awe when driving between Southern Ontario and eastern Nova Scotia, via New Brunswick. I was stunned by the sheer vastness and density of the forests that line the Trans-Canada Highway, and just how small it made this huge (by my British standards) highway feel. On that same trip, I experienced a very similar feeling of awe while listening to a fiddle player in a seaside restaurant. The music was beautiful in a very different way to the forest that never seemed to end, but both sparked that same feeling of luck at having been able to witness it.

So far, I feel I have had little experience interpreting nature through art, as I lack the technical skillsets required to be good at drawing or painting, and my photography skills could use some work too. However, as I’ve started to realise, is that art is not perfect, and neither is nature. For this reason, I have started to put conscious effort into forgetting about the ‘perfect shot’ (spoiler alert: it doesn’t exist) or an exact colour match, and have been trying to focus more on conveying the feeling I might get from witnessing a particular event in nature; be that something as impressive as an osprey catching it’s next meal, or even as mundane as leaves falling from the sugar maple in my front yard.

I like to think that the Group of Seven were not aiming to capture the scenes in front of them in an exact sense, but rather what it felt like to be there and see that place at that time. That’s where I feel the true power of interpreting nature through art lies; preserving a moment, place, or species for future generations to experience long after we’re gone.

Taken on my first night in Cape Breton on the trip mentioned above (August 2024)

To be completely honest, I wouldn’t say there’s anything particularly special about this photo and don’t think I would consider it art, but the experience I have to go with it really jumps beyond the screen for me. To give some context, this was the first time I had been to the ocean since moving to Canada in 2022. So, for that reason, this picture is so much more than just a boulder on the shoreline, and I still feel the same deep relaxation I felt after that first dive into the water when looking at it.

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Unit 3 Blog

I would define ‘privilege’ as a term synonymous with ‘opportunity’. When it comes to nature interpretation, privilege is an important consideration for both interpreters and visitors. There are numerous factors that influence visitor privilege, which in this case is the opportunity to attend interpretive programs or experience the beauty and history of a natural site. Privilege can relate to geographical location; that is, people who live closer to a site have a better opportunity to experience it. Privilege can be affected by physical movement (e.g., unable to walk) or comprehensive ability (impaired senses, mental illness, and age/maturity). It can also relate to economic factors, as many are unable to afford proper transportation, admission fees or internet access to discover and attend interpretive programs. Cultural barriers, timing barriers, and barriers related to comfort are also major considerations that affect opportunity and privilege for visitors. It's very important that interpreters treat all visitors with the same amount of kindness and patience, and tailor experiences to commonalities and shared interests between people rather than differences between them. Privilege is often out of our control, and as interpreters the best thing we can do is ensure that programs and sites are as accessible as possible for visitors. For example, online interpretive programs (such as information sessions via Zoom or recorded sessions via YouTube) have been extremely helpful ways to cross the geographical barrier and allow a larger demographic of visitors the privilege of attending an interpretive workshop or program. This was especially important during lockdown procedures at the beginning of the pandemic, when we were unable to gather for in-person walks or tours.

I think the concept of privilege should also be acknowledged and accepted by the visitors as much as the interpreter. We often take experiences like these for granted, forgetting that they are unique opportunities to form meaningful connections with people and nature. As visitors, there are ways we can forward our appreciation for the privilege we have by sharing our experiences with others who can’t share them with us. Interpretive experiences that allow photography or videography allow visitors to capture memorable moments and share positive experiences online, which may inspire others to attend. Over the last few years, I have attended many online workshops that I would never have known about if not for recommendations or word spread from others.

As aspiring nature interpreters, I think it’s extremely important that we take opportunity and privilege into account when building connections with our audience and guiding them through an interpretive experience. Without the privilege of experiencing nature in the way I did throughout my upbringing, I may never have explored this path or even taken this course! Looking forward into the future, it is clear that barriers to privilege will continue to grow as the natural world is threatened by human impact and the rise of global climate change. We need to do all we can to ensure that future generations of interpreters and visitors are able to develop the same connections and appreciate the same experiences as us.

[msdenvs3000f24]

Hi there! Great post!!

I particularly love how you describe privilege as synonymous with opportunity; I think that is a concise, but really effective definition.

Your response expands on the concept of privilege in nature interpretation by recognizing the dual responsibility of both interpreters and visitors. Acknowledging privilege as visitors is an important step toward fostering a deeper appreciation for the unique opportunities we have to connect with nature. You are absolutely correct in saying that by sharing experiences, whether through photography, videography, or word of mouth, we can help broaden access for others who may not have the same opportunities. It highlights the power of community and shared experiences in promoting inclusivity.

Your emphasis on building connections and recognizing barriers to privilege is essential in shaping a more inclusive approach to interpretation. Adapting programs to different audiences and acknowledging the growing threats of climate change are crucial steps toward fostering an inclusive, resilient, and forward-thinking generation of interpreters.

From the experience that I have in this already, I do feel that this is sometimes easier said than done unfortunately. I have found that privilege can warp an audience’s perspective on a particular animal or habitat so deeply that it turns into dismissal or judgement. To see any real change in this, I think we have a long way to go as a community in learning to recognise privilege and its power over the way we experience nature.

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Unit 3

What role does “privilege” play in nature interpretation? Please include your working definition of privilege.

I would consider privilege to be centred primarily in one’s upbringing and the experiences they were afforded in their early years due to the socioeconomic standing of their family. More and more I have come to realise that I have been privileged in my ability to access nature from an early age, I have benefitted greatly from what my family could offer because of the area we lived in, finances, and the ability for them to take time off work to connect with nature as a family. Also, the fact that my parents recognised that connecting with nature as a child is important is another point of privilege, in my opinion. As a personal example, it’s the travel experiences that stick in my mind as a clear cut example of near-textbook privilege. I think of my time spent in the French Alps, specifically, where I had the opportunity to feel small in nature among the vast peaks. I would consider these trips truly formative, as they taught me to appreciate the unpredictability and immense power of nature. Lightning storms are common in the Alps in summer, and it came as quite a shock to see lightning repeatedly strike a summit that my family and I had been stood at just half an hour earlier. The experiences I was fortunate to have throughout my childhood through travel, access to books and media, and simply our proximity to nature in my hometown afforded me tools to nurture my connection with nature. So, even though I would like to think that I would have found my way to this point on my own, without these experiences, I am not certain that I would feel as strongly about nature as I now do.

 A cloudless sky near the summit just an hour before the storm rolled in (Chamonix, France. 2020)

To understand the true sway of privilege in the environmental sector, one must only look at statistics around race, gender, nationality and many more characteristics determined as ‘birth rights’ that apply to top policymakers, publishers, and famed interpreters. Above that, privilege has strong influence on the most heard voices when discussing protecting nature and other environmental issues.

Through my interpretation experience so far (yet another experience the privilege of being able to move to a new continent to attend university has afforded me), I have become mindful of making these spaces and scenarios as welcoming as possible to as many people as possible. This sent me down path of intense learning, and has led me to seriously consider how I can recognise my privilege and reduce the way it may warp my view of nature, and the wider world. Beyond the personal benefits I have gained from this, I would consider this to be an example of the power of interpretation; where not only the audiences are learning, but the interpreters are too. I think that through mindful and equitable nature interpretation we can start to bridge the gap that privilege creates, and hopefully reach a point where everyone is afforded distinct opportunities to develop their own relationship with nature.

[amlenvs3000f24]

An Ideal Environmental Interpreter

After learning about the role of an environmental interpreter form the text, I began reflecting on my own experiences with guided tours. One memory that stands out is a tour I took for one of my university classes on the Wild Goose Trail in the Arboretum. Even though I had walked that trail many times before, the tour guide asked questions and provided insights that made us think critically about the natural environment. It wasn’t just about identifying trees and plants but also asking deeper questions, like why certain species thrive in specific areas. For example, the Freeman maple, a hybrid between a red maple and a silver maple, is impressive because hybrids typically don’t survive in nature. Not only does it exist, but it thrives in wet areas on the trail where its roots are completely submerged. That level of engagement made me realize the value of an interpreter’s role. They can take familiar surroundings and make them feel new again, sparking curiosity and leading visitors (like myself) to seek out more information later on.

In reflecting on this, I realized that my ideal role as an environmental interpreter would be one where I help people see nature with fresh eyes. Not just in places they’ve seen before, but also by helping them appreciate new details in the landscape, things they might not have noticed before. I would aim to create a learning environment that encourages curiosity and makes people feel safe to ask questions, even if they’re unsure. A positive and open attitude is essential for this, so people feel comfortable guessing or asking questions, even if they’re wrong.

To me, an interpreter can also be a researcher. Constantly observing nature and interacting with visitors brings about new research questions naturally. I would want to be someone who not only educates but also continues to learn and grow. This role would blend education and research, deepening my understanding while sharing knowledge with others. Which having a background in biology, ecology, or environmental science is crucial for this role, but strong communication skills are just as important. It’s not just about knowing the facts; it’s about engaging visitors in a way that’s approachable and fun. I remember as a kid, guides would make learning enjoyable, one even handed me a plant, joking that it was poison ivy (it wasn’t!) but used the moment to teach us about plant identification. That playful approach left a lasting impact on me.

I’d love to work in natural areas like forests or wetlands, whether in conservation areas or national parks. Ideally, I’d be working in diverse ecosystems with a variety of plant and animal life. A role that incorporates physical activities like hiking, canoeing, or even rock climbing alongside environmental education sounds like a perfect fit. Combining physical activity with learning is a great way to help people connect with nature on multiple levels—mentally and physically—while growing practical skills like wildlife identification and first aid. Which an environmental interpreter should definitely know the dangers in the area and be prepared since nature is ever unpredictable. While I love that active approach, I also believe it’s important to have accessible tours for people with different abilities so everyone has the chance to fall in love with nature.

Finally, I believe an environmental interpreter must be aware of the diverse beliefs within their audience. While I personally care deeply about sustainability and reducing my carbon footprint, not everyone shares the same views on topics like climate change or evolution. It’s crucial to be respectful of those differences and to frame information in a way that encourages open-mindedness, rather than pushing personal or political beliefs.

[msdenvs3000f24]

Hey there! It sounds like your experience on the Wild Goose Trail really highlights how impactful an environmental interpreter can be, especially when they encourage a deeper connection with nature beyond just identifying species. Your reflection about how the guide sparked curiosity by asking questions and offering unique insights, like the survival of the Freeman maple, resonates with what makes interpretation such a powerful tool—helping people see the familiar in new ways and appreciate details they might have otherwise overlooked.

I love how you've connected this experience to your vision for your own role as an interpreter. The idea of helping people view nature with "fresh eyes," not just in new places but also in places they've been before. Your post makes me think about how about creating an engaging and safe space for learning, where curiosity thrives, and audiences feel comfortable asking questions is what good interpretation looks like. Your emphasis on making audiences feel they can interact without needing to fear making mistakes is a great point too.

Your observation about interpreters also being researchers is insightful, and I really hadn’t thought of it that way before. You’ve helped me to realise that interpretation isn’t just a one-way street where you impart knowledge, instead it’s more of an exchange, where the interpreter may learn from the questions asked by audiences. It sounds like blending education and research, would keep you engaged, growing, and learning alongside your audience, which makes the work even more enriching.

Great post!