NEWS: For Fear of Green Places

CULTURE: For Fear of Green Places

by M. J. Johnson

I went into the park because I wished to read my book. What could be better than spending a warm afternoon with my back to a tree, a good book in hand, a cup of coffee next to me, cool grass and dirt under my butt? Well, apparently, I’m the only one who was thinking that way.

I recently moved to Iowa City; it’s a funky little college town, sort of a mini-Portland. On one side of town is this HUGE city park (cleverly called “City Park”), which is roughly the same size as the village where I grew up. There are pavilions and playgrounds, ball-diamonds and soccer pitches, and even a little train kids can ride. And the place was PACKED! Every pavilion had a family reunion, and the playgrounds were humming with giggles and screams. The walking trails were full of serious runners and leisurely walkers. There were even people using canoes to annoy the ducks.

But only I was on the grass. There weren’t any signs telling people to stay off the grass; in fact, there were benches and grills scattered all around under the trees. There just weren’t any people off the paths.

Hundreds of people, gathered in this tamed forest, and only I walked on the grass. Only I sat under a tree. Only I dared to leave the concrete or wood-chips.

Carl Jung talks about the Collective Unconscious, a sort of racial memory (where the “race” in question is “human”), which forms our psyche and explains why people in different cultures have similar stories and fears. Based on fairy tales and stories, forests are a place of human fear. Hansel and Gretel? Little Red Riding Hood? Any knightly quest, all have scary things hidden in the wild places. Our ancestors learned to fear the woods because all those trees give predators a good place to hide.

Has this translated into a fear of leaving the concrete path? Are we all so afraid of the wild that we don’t want to even walk on the grass? When I was teaching, I had to laugh at students who went far, far out of their way to get from class to class, simply because that’s where the sidewalk went.

Do we quaver at the feel of uneven ground under our feet? Does the thought of getting our shoes dirty terrify us? Are grass-stains scary? Do we think a mountain lion is lurking in the trees over our heads? Do we still fear the witch in the woods?

Or is it something else? This park did not have “keep off the grass” signs, but many do. People spend millions of dollars every year to create lawns to see but not walk upon. Shoe companies create specific shoes for running on roads, dirt paths, or sidewalks, but the human foot is designed to run on grass, to step where no one else has stepped.

When Thoreau went into the woods, he wanted to wake up knowing that he was surrounded by nothing but nature. He reveled in squirrels who invaded his home, and spent hours just studying a war between black and red ants (scholars like to debate whether he really saw the ant war or not). He spent chapters describing the quiet.

When was the last time things around you were really quiet? I open my windows at night and listen to people in the parking lot, cars on the road, fire engines, shouts, motorcycles, and some annoying brat with a whistle. We buy white-noise machines to play static so we can sleep. We have televisions and radios and ipods playing at all times, and claim its because we “live for music.”

Humans have never been all that comfortable in the wild; we’re fragile when compared to lions and tigers and bears (oh my!), so we build caves (houses) and cut down the trees, then complain that all the wild places are disappearing.

We’re supposed to be a part of nature, not separated from it. So, there is no reason to walk on the sidewalk.

Except for the bears.


M. J. Johnson is the professional name of Coyotemike. He has written a moderately bad e-book called The Bastards Club and is working on getting more serious work published.

Related Posts
My Size Cannot Define Me

When I was a child I used to spend endless hours outdoors. I don't know if it's that I've changed, or that the planet's changed or both. It's not pleasant to me to be outside anymore. The sun feels far more intense than I ever remember as a child, I really can't stand to be in direct sunlight for more than a few minutes anymore.

Vampire?

If I start sparkling, please kill me.

Well...grass stains ARE hard to get out.
If not for the twigs, prickly weeds, rocks and broken glass I'd go barefoot in our parks.

Luckily I can still do that on the beach.

I also have seasonal allergies 3 months or so of the year so going into a "wild" area is miserable so the "urban Jungle" is my place.

I wonder if the rise in allergies has anything to do with the fact that we spend so much more time in enclosed spaces now?

Oh, also, for everyone out there...I'm not the woman in the pictures.

I remember National Geographic doing an article about this. Although I have not been able to find a link to it, I seem to recall the article stating that scientific/medical research indicates a link between the two.

I work in the gardening/landscaping field, and I completely agree with your point about people and their lawns; it's the one topic I get asked about regularly from March to November, and it's almost an obsession with some to have a perfect lawn - for display purposes only.

In addition to the other theories you've put forward as to why people stay off the grass, I wonder if location has something to do with it as well; I've seen many people on the grass in parks in downtown Toronto.

Thank you for writing this article - it's one of the few I've seen here over the years that I felt connected to (if that makes any sense).

I honestly expected to see a disclaimer at the top of the page, considering some of the reaction in your last article. Haha.

Another great article, Coyote. I really enjoy your writing, and as an avid "outdoorsman", can certainly understand where you are coming from.

P.S. my lawn looks like hell, especially the back, it's for walking and playing baseball with your niece and nephew, not some "hey, look how much money I have" showpiece. Good God people, lighten up and live a little.

i lived and worked out doors all my life and i have hay fever a right bitch if you work on a farm, didnt like walking bare foot thistles, nettles cow shit

Chael and I noticed this too. I thought it was just me until I asked him one day. I can't look up above the ground on sunny days without pain from the brightness and have started wearing sunglasses in recent years... Where I'd never before then, at all. Chael almost lives in sunglasses; if he's outdoors, they are on.

While I've never been fond of hot sun or someone who tans on purpose, as the years have gone on bright sunlight has actually become painful. I was played outside as a child lots, have always been one to go out for walks and exercise outdoors... But as time has gone on, I've spent less and less time outdoors in the summer because the sunlight hurts. Not the other way around (staying inside more so that I'm more sensitive to sunlight). I

nstead, I do my walks after it gets dim or dark out. I try to make my appointments for in the morning so I can go to them before the sun gets too intense. I do my errands like shopping in the evenings most of the time, so that I don't have to be in the glare of the sun.

I can do things when it's full sunny out, but it's unpleasant.

A few weeks ago I walked through the grass to get to the entrance of a busy building. Not only was it the shorter route, but I wanted to smell the flowers planted along the wall. When I got to the entrance, the man at the door said, "What, so you don't use sidewalks?" So I laughed and smiled and replied "How am I supposed to know if the flowers smell nice from the sidewalk if the flowers are 12 feet from me?" Then an older gentleman behind the door man said, "See that Jim! I bet you didn't even know the flowers smelled nice!" It was too funny

A lot of times I do take a non-established path through the grass to feel earth under my shoes even if it happens to be the longer way. I love the uneven softness of it. Unless there is a do not walk on the grass sign for me to respect, I don't have a force field to keep me from walking on it. My brother and dad both suffer from outdoor allergies so they can't really stay out too long without allergy medicine. I don't have that problem and I do appreciate it, but it's not like I'm a great outdoorsy person. I do as much as I can handle when I'm outdoors.

As always, great article....and I love The Bastards Club

Sunglasses are a must for me as well, except on very overcast days.

Not in my case, I mean I live indoors but I've had these since I was a child, I love being outside and a bike as my primary means of transport makes it rough what with the sneezing and riding.

It's hard for me to understand a general avoidance of nature, as most people where I live and grew up are all about the outdoors, even if they don't live out in the country or hunt. Some people here are really into the decorative lawn thing, but most people would rather walk barefoot in the grass than tame it. I myself love it when clover and flowers overtake some of the yard. It's pretty, and the rabbits seem to like it.

I'm not the most outdoorsy person, but I do love having a yard that backs up to trees and a horse farm. It's very peaceful, and if I have the windows open at night, or go out on the deck, I hear little more than cricket song and the occasional horse whinny. I love the visiting birds and squirrels and rabbits, the bats flying over the trees at night, and fireflies in the summer. I used to be into gardening too, but one too many encounters with poison ivy killed that pastime, regrettably.

Fear is indeed a powerful behavior modifier, and fear of evil toxic plants makes me spend more time indoors. Fear of jellyfish makes me avoid the ocean now too. After years of going to the beach and swimming and bodyboarding, I finally got stung a few years ago, and I prefer swimming pools now. It is kind of sad that a few injuries have killed my urge to be one with nature, but my brain seems more interested in self-preservation than risk.

Although I've always preferred to live in big cities, I take every opportunity to get as far away from people as possible when traveling. Places where there is no other cars, no man made light or noise pollution and people are scarce - the two lane highway I'm using to get there is the only sign of people ever being present, and perhaps some long-abandoned buildings for variety.

Places like these: