The Purpose of Place: Understanding the Land and Places We Call "Home"
Beginning to understand this relationship has helped me learn to respect place much more, and in consequence, respect the environment.
Over the past few weeks, we’ve been experiencing something aptly named “false summer” here in Central Oregon. This yearly phenomenon is when a few days of warm weather seem to signal the end of winter, only to be followed by more days of snow and rain.
“False summer” was especially welcoming this year. The endless gloomy skies, frigid cold air, and icy streets of the past four months have taken their toll, both mentally and physically. A few days of bright sunshine and warmer evenings felt like a blessing, a welcome end to the endless winter.
Wintertime isn’t always like this, and for many people, the colder seasons are the best time of the year. For myself, throughout my life, I’ve truly loved the darker parts of the year. As an avid snowboarder and self-proclaimed fanatic of fall, my relationship with the colder seasons has always been one of joy and excitement.
Yet, as I’ve gotten older, this relationship has become more complex. This winter, I found myself craving warmth more often. I couldn’t stop thinking about brighter days, endless sunshine, and more southern latitudes. These feelings pressed me to rethink my connection to winter in a much deeper context, trying to understand why these darker and colder months have been especially difficult of late.
To understand, let me provide some context on myself. I was born in Southern California and spent the first 22 years of my life there. Growing up, the lowest temperatures reached in the winter were in the high 50s, and rain was something of a miracle that only happened two to three times a year. For those reasons, my body was raised in a climate with one season - summer and slightly less summer.
For much of my life, I hated this lack of seasons in Southern California. I wanted to feel the changing of the temperatures, witness the fall colors, and have holidays filled with snow. In fact, this desire to experience the changing seasons was part of the reason I left California almost eight years ago.
Over the past decade of my life, I’ve worked to settle into the new climate of different places and make them each my temporary home. Whether that was the dry cold seasons on the Front Range of Colorado or the icy winters of Central Oregon, I planted my body in these new locations and claimed them as my place.
But this winter, as I’ve battled through the seasonal mental shifts of the dark and cold winter, I’ve thought a lot about this concept. Can we really decide our place?
For myself, I am planted in this location currently, but it doesn’t always feel like my place. I have cravings for warmer weather, ocean breezes, and bright sunshine. Although I absolutely love Central Oregon, and it’s where I live, it’s not the place that shaped me into who I am.
The places that shaped us and made us who we are today are part of our biology. Not just our mentality toward life and personality, but our natural and animalistic biology. They provided the environmental pressures that influenced us, the climate mechanisms that shaped us, and the biological triggers that developed us.
In many ways, we often act like we are separate from this biological concept of place. In fact, throughout most of my life, I’ve fought against this very idea. I’ve told myself that my place is where I will decide it is. But maybe that’s not really true.
I mean, are we that much different from the Chinook Salmon who migrate down the Columbia River to the Pacific Ocean, only to return to the cold waters of their natal streams? Do we differ much from the Humpback Whales who traverse thousands of miles of open ocean to reach the two places their biology knows best? All animals have a concept of place - where they were born, where they were raised, and where they will return. Are humans really that much different?
I’ve thought a lot about this in the philosophical context. As biological beings that are influenced by the same chemical reactions, environmental triggers, and concepts of evolution as other animals, our concept of place is just as much dictated by our biology as it is by our career path, social relationships, and personal taste.
This isn’t to say that we must return to the places we were born and raised. I highly doubt I will ever return to the Inland Empire of California. It’s more of a way to understand our biological needs and to respect the influence that nature has on who we are. Our bodies remember, and in many cases, may crave the same environments and climates that resemble those where we were raised.
For myself, as much as I rejected Southern California throughout my life, I cannot help but acknowledge it is where I am from. I carry blood that was raised in warmer temperatures, senses that were developed by the spray of sea salt, and social understandings that were influenced by the local culture.
Beginning to understand this relationship has helped me learn to respect place much more, and in consequence, respect the landscape and its environment. It’s helped me realize that I am more than just a conscious, intelligent mind but a living and breathing body that works in tandem with the natural world.
The person I am is a result of place.
So maybe, these cravings for a place similar to the one that raised me are valid. Maybe, I, like those Chinook Salmon or Humpback Whales, will be driven back toward the environment that raised me, filled with brighter days, warmer weather, and the sound of waves crashing against the ocean shore.
📚 Book of the Month
You may have already noticed, but a lot of this month’s posts have been inspired by concepts of eco-phemenology. That’s because I’ve been reading Spell of the Sensuous by David Abram. It’s a fantastic book that discusses nature’s role in influencing humanity and makes you rethink your connection with the natural world.
I’d highly recommend and would love to hear people’s thoughts either in the chat or the comments!
🗞️ Story of the Week
Each week, I’m going to start recommending a story that focuses on topics or ideas that connect with the focus of this platform. Sometimes it’ll be from different publications, websites, or even other writers on Substack. If you’d like to recommend something you read recently that you want to share, please send me a message!
This week, I’m sharing a recently published story from one of the best publications in the Western United States, High Country News. In this story, Utah veteran Alexander Lemons shares his story of how restoration helped him find a better and restored version of himself.
Looking Ahead to April
As we look ahead to the next month, I’d like to provide some updates for all of you. There is a bunch of events, announcements, and stories coming your way.
First off, later this week, I’ll be sharing a sneak peek for the Naturalists Community (paid subscribers) regarding the feature-length documentary State of Mine. As mentioned a few weeks ago, State of Mine follows the story of communities across the United States who are fighting to protect their public lands from extractive mining practices, including the development of a mine in Central Idaho.
We’re deep in development on the project, and I'll have updates on our crowdfunding campaign and planned production next weekend, but The Naturalists will get a first look at the story this week.
In addition, speaking of warmer weather, I’ll be heading somewhere warmer and sunnier later this month for a conservation film project. I’m excited to be taking this trip to shed light on some local conservation efforts and be accompanied by some wonderful friends and creative storytellers. I will be sharing more about this trip soon.
Finally, we’re going to be announcing some upcoming events for the late spring and early summer to make this platform a little more interactive. These events will include panels, guest speakers, and maybe even a happy hour. Naturalists will get priority access for all events.
Thanks for being here, friends. See you in the next one.
With Love,
Keegan
Reminder: The Naturalists community chat is now open. As more individuals join the community, we will start having more discussions in the chat. I’m still learning how this option works on Substack, but for now, we can start by having conversations about the monthly challenge or topics posted each week. To get access to the Naturalists’ community, sign up for the paid subscription below.
