As a college student, I find myself inside a lot. Whether I’m completing projects in the Olsson study rooms, meeting with organizations in Thornton or grabbing a bite in the Pav, I’m usually blocked in by walls, fluorescent lighting and synthetic flooring. I often find myself glazing outa nearby window, yearning for a healthy spray of sunlight, but I must stay seated before my computer screen.
Even when I am outside, I’m still almost constantly stuck in what is called the built environment — the human-made spaces, infrastructure and objects. Think roadways, walkways, bridges, buildings, homes and even parks with deliberately-crafted paths.
An existence primarily in this space — mine, for example — compromises the natural environment. Take Carter Mountain, for example. University students flock to the apple orchard to be in nature, surrounded by lush groves and panoramic mountain views. But the space they’re in isn’t natural. The gravel driveways, wooden decks and human-designed orchard fields are intentionally placed, all part of a curated built environment.
My time at the University has been marked by these kinds of experiences — going outside, onto the freshly-cut Lawn or into manicured Morven gardens, but not really going into nature. However, a recent trip to Moab, Utah, away from the man-made outdoors, helped me realize just how much difference an escape from the built environment can make.
On a Sunday morning in May, I woke up at 3 a.m. to catch a flight to Salt Lake City — the first leg in my journey to the small Utah city of Moab. Moab is largely used as a homebase for tourists who venture to see the nearby Arches and Canyonlands National Parks, Dead Horse Point State Park and other natural features in the area.
I had the chance to see these parks by foot, hummer and water raft. I hiked past rock formations, rolled over petrified sand dunes and glided down the Colorado River.
My favorite among these places was Arches National Park. Exploring the terrain felt like stepping onto another planet. This area contains over 2,000 natural arches, formed through geologic processes including tectonic uplift, erosion and the dissolution of subsurface salt deposits. The park is a space where nature — through the elements and natural processes — is the main actor.
As a tourist location, the National Parks do include some elements of a built environment like visitor centers, signage and paved scenic overlooks. But aside from these operational necessities, the NPS and visitors are simply reactive to the landscapes, witnesses to what nature has designed.
In Moab, the built environment felt like little blips in the larger context of red rock. Nature took center stage — and stage right and stage left. The built environment was an actor, but barely noticeable, almost like a swaying tree in the background.
As I hiked through the Fiery Furnace, I realized that this close connection with the pure, unaltered environment is perhaps the only way for us to truly understand and connect to Earth. We humans live our lives in insular spaces that exclude the natural environment. Every inch of the University — indoor and outdoor — is like this.
Places designated to the conservation of natural space tell a story of human influence. They reveal what we have concealed and, more often, destroyed. But they also tell a story of natural history. The marvels of the landscape reflect natural processes that have shaped the Earth over billions of years. These places instill an understanding of nature’s beauty and how small we are in the context of the natural world.
For a slice of humble pie, the feeling of pure awe, or anything in between, I encourage my fellow students to get out of the indoors every once and a while and get into real nature. Find solace deep in the O’Hill Trails and watch the sunlight seep through the hardwood forest. Seek out an undeveloped corner of Forest Hills Park, sit on an exposed tree root and listen to the birdsong in the skies above. Or hike to Humpback Rock to watch the sun set over rolling hills.
Wherever you go, embrace your departure from the human-influenced world and steep yourself in the authentic Earth — the world that predated us and will last far beyond our influence.
While the “real world” still exists, filled with its many to-dos that take you back to the built environment, it is most important not to forget how an escape to nature made you feel. I believe the wave of emotions that come with seeing the unadulterated Earth will leave an indelible mark, and you’ll keep coming back to the “wild” again and again.