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Final Paper Trexler Nature Preserve

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Final Paper Trexler Nature Preserve

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hestonkyle
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1

Kyle Heston
Professor Burkhart
FSSO 182
November 28, 2021

Breaking Through the Boundaries

Nestled between two primary north-south highways in the Lehigh Valley lies the Trexler

Nature Preserve. But if you look at the area from a birds-eye satellite image, you might say that

the Trexler Nature Preserve is not necessarily ‘nestled’, between Routes 100 and 309, but is

rather constricted by these traffic arteries. This pristine area gives a glimpse into the past.

Originally owned privately by World War I general Harry Trexler, we can still see his influence

on the land today. General Trexler inherited the imperialist ideals promoted by public figures in

his early life. A prime example of one such figure is Theodore Roosevelt, whose ‘Rough Rider’

mentality led to the ownership of more exotic animals and the dawn of zoos. Centering these

ideologies to the Trexler Nature Preserve, we see the bison enclosure that first greets visitors of

the Nature Preserve. As discussed in the Cronon piece, there exists a difference between

wilderness and wildness. The purpose for importing these bison was likely to replicate the

wildness that existed long before the nature preserve. Under the perspective of Cronon, this

simply cannot be done: wildness is an attribute of an untouched and unmodified region. On the

contrary, “ ‘A person with a clear heart and open mind can experience the wilderness anywhere

on earth’ ”(Cronon 89). This ideology helps us to define the nature preserve as a source of

wilderness where we can feel far away from the noisy, urbanized city, but not a source of

wildness as the bison’s presence is due to wishes of man.

For contextualization, bison were native to the area; however, the last wild bison were

killed during colonial times. Thus, the bison present in the Trexler Nature preserve were brought

in from outside the bounds of the nature preserve, but thrive as did their native cousins hundreds
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of years prior. These bison are contained by what I will call ‘soft barriers’, defined as the fence

enclosing their roaming fields. While they are unable to pass this fencing, it can easily be

adjusted to compensate for changes in bison population or to rotate between grazing areas. What

cannot easily be moved is a highway, thus Routes 100 and 309 act as ‘hard barriers’ in our

conversation.

While it may be more obvious to the eye, bison are not the only species that experience a

boundary within the nature preserve. Just as urban industrialization was prominent in the Lehigh

Valley in the 20th century while General Trexler used his land as an escape, it still persists in the

21st century in the form of new manufacturing plants and warehouses sprouting from the ground

every few years. Housing developments have branched outward and now encroach upon the

preserve, bringing with them all of the essentials of a human community: dining, entertainment,

and education facilities. Many public leaders seek to make their domains more walkable for their

residents. And so, the different entrances and trails of the preserve offer an east-west bridge

between what surrounds Routes 100 and 309. But as one leaves the nature preserve, he or she

leaves the connecting trails as well, thus diminishing the walkability of the area outside the

preserve.

In addition to these physical barriers, conceptual barriers surround the Trexler Nature

Preserve as well. One such example is the quest for carbon neutrality and green building

practices. Sitting atop a hill with the highest elevation within the preserve is the Trexler

Environmental Center. This building was designed with several features, making it a “green”

building. Most notably, the building uses geothermal heating and cooling practices, as well as

solar energy to provide nearly all the power it needs. These impressive measures earned the

center a gold certification in Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED), which
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was a featured panel at the Cleveland Sustainability Summit. As society looks to reverse the

effects of climate change, we can look to the Environmental Center as an example of effective

construction practices to limit carbon footprint, without sacrificing building functionality.

This is all to say that the Trexler Nature Preserve serves as an example of modern

environmentalist priorities, and how we can break through current ceilings in sustainability

efforts. How we can break through physical boundaries fabricated by humans that choke nature

and limit human mobility, as well as conceptual boundaries inflating our current climate

trajectory beyond what our planet can tolerate, creating the notion that contemporary nature is all

but perfect wildness.

The aforementioned highway barriers created by Routes 100 and 309 limit the expanse of

the nature preserve, and they do so in a permanent manner. The two highways have become two

of the most traveled in the area, connecting the northern suburbs to Philadelphia. Their

significance is so great that they will continue to stand as long as the sun continues to rise.

Because of this, we know that the Trexler Nature Preserve will almost certainly not see an

increase in size in its future. We see limitations placed on nature by human hands elsewhere. One

example rather similar in concept to the Trexler Nature Preserve’s bounds is the LA River. Both

are confined by concrete borders, isolating what lies inside the concrete from external interaction

and vice versa. Price’s “Nature in LA” and her concept of “losing” the LA River are relevant

here: “The Engineers rechristened the river the flood control channel. They decreed it was no

longer a river--and to the public, the concrete channel no longer looked wild enough to count as

nature. And this is how LA lost its river”(Price 229). If I were a resident of LA, I personally

would feel a loss should the river have seemingly disappeared from the area. While it obviously

didn’t vanish in a visual sense, losing a significant land feature from my surroundings would cast
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a sort of eerie feeling. Does it symbolize what will someday happen to the living spaces of the

area, eventually becoming too populated that housing is bottlenecked into cramped

microdevelopments? While that thought is purely hypothetical, we still see that the virtual

disappearance of significant land features has a notable effect on the psyche of residents.

Orienting this concept to my discussion of the Trexler Nature Preserve, what should local

residents feel if a highway widening project or bypass etches out more of the natural scene? This

leads to me the idea that Price’s LA serves as an example of exactly what we shouldn’t do with

our major landmarks. In addition to the ecological harm that comes from isolating a river of that

size, there’s the tremendous amount of resources used in the project, which according to Price

total “2 million cubic yards of concrete and remains the corps’ largest public works project west

of the Mississippi”(Price 229). This squandering of limited natural resources cannot be continued

in the future if a carbon neutral world is truly desired. Looking to the Trexler Environmental

Center as an example of green construction practices, we see the use of renewable materials for

construction pervious concrete outside to reduce surface runoff, limiting both the use of scarce

resources, and the negative side effects of relocating these resources in construction.

Price and myself aren’t alone in our concern for replacing nature with human creations.

In her piece “Rambunctious Garden”, Marris shares even similar word choice with Price: “We

have lost nature in the sense that much nature has been destroyed: where there was a tree, there is

a house; where there was a creek, there is a pipe and a parking lot. . .”; etc. (Marris 1). From this

excerpt, I coin the term ‘replaced nature’. Speaking traditionally, and perhaps in a manner

General Trexler might agree with, replaced nature cannot be a substitute for untouched nature. I

refer back to Cronon's dichotomy between wildness and wilderness as mentioned earlier. We

cannot expect wildness and untouched nature in the modern world. Societies have developed to
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such an extent little untouched nature remains in close proximity to citizens. And the Trexler

Nature Preserve serves as an example of that. Looking back to when the land was still private,

we can see some areas cleared of trees and obstacles to make for recreational hunting areas on

the land. Yet this fact is practically ignored, and the preserve fosters the enjoyment of its guests,

proving untouched nature is not essential for the appreciation of the surrounding environment

and that replaced nature serves just as well.

If concrete infringement of the preserve remains a possibility, how can Lehigh County,

responsible for managing the preserve, and the residents of the area increase its significance?

Van Horn discusses one such measure in his “Greenways” chapter. The chapter opens with a

quote that includes “ ‘Through walking, in short, landscapes are woven into life, and lives are

woven into the landscape, in a process that is continuous and never-ending’ ”(Van Horn 159).

From this excerpt we see the importance that Van Horn places on walking as a form of

connection with one’s surroundings, a form of transportation, and a form of relaxation.

Following this opening quote, Van Horn throws the reader into what initially seems like a

terrifying situation: “The driver. . . aims the car in my direction. . . punches down the horn. . .

[and]shoves the pedal down. The car accelerates. . . passing directly under my feet”(Van Horn

159). We then learn that Van Horn is standing upon an elevated trail that passes over a major

avenue. This helps to see Van Horn’s concept of integrating walking with and in urban life.

While Van Horn experiences integrated walking and urban life, how can we apply the

same concepts to the Trexler Nature Preserve? A possible answer to that question that follows

the situation that Van Horn opens with would be extending the 20+ miles of walking trails inside

the nature preserve over, quite literally, the highways. These extensions would not need to reach

a long distance, but would only have to cross the highways to allow nearby residents to walk to
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the preserve rather than travel by car. Should this thought become a reality, the perspective of a

student of the nearby community college might change. Rather than seeing their school as “an

IKEA furniture store, a collection of things to which [they] travel”, they might see themselves

“living within a meshwork”, not confined by the edges of their campus(Van Horn 165). Thus,

one aspect of the physical boundary would be remedied.

Moving beyond physical boundaries, we can examine the possibility of carbon neutrality

and what is holding our world back from breaking through this ceiling lingering above our

capabilities. Knowledge of climate change stemming from increased CO2 emissions dates back

to the late 19th and early 20th centuries, yet climate change didn’t reach front cover news until

the 1970s. As climate became mainstream news, national government responded with the

formation of the EPA and the Department of Energy. As our climate situation continues to

worsen, national action alone is nowhere near enough to flatten the curve. Action is required at

the local and even individual levels. Using the Trexler Nature Preserve as an example, we see

what impact even small projects have on the surrounding environment. Taking a green approach

to development does not mean ceasing development entirely. Instead we should look to integrate

furthering human development with a touch of replacing nature. We’ve proven that we have the

means to erect structures that neither directly displace natural habits of Earth’s animals, nor do

they indirectly push creatures away. While our discussion is focused here, the Trexler

Environmental Center features a technology in its glass windows that reflect less of the sun’s

warmth, and do not reflect light upwards. These features encourage birds to stay nearby, instead

of evacuating the area in fear of the building. This building strategy comes only with a

consciousness; a consciousness that Van Horn discusses in his “Mindways” chapter. He writes of

a massive commercial building where “eight large bronze heads perch atop a row of evenly
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spaced pillars” are situated just outside. These heads “face the building [and] also face away

from the river, symbolically fitting for a river that served as an open sewer during the era in

which these men lived”(Van Horn 198-199). Here we see an example of ignorance of the natural

world. Ignorance such as this example or myriad others seen in our history bring upon replaced

nature. Replaced nature in the sense of ruined nature, contrary to replaced nature with a benefit,

as evidenced by the Trexler Environmental Center.

To elaborate, integrating our development with existing nature provides a tract of

replaced nature that does essentially no harm to the existing ecology, and simultaneously

provides human enjoyment of both the new structures and the natural world built in. And this is

what I believe to be our best remedy for our climate trajectory: lining the sides of our tall

buildings with solar panels to produce energy, while reducing distraction to birds; establishing

more green roofs to reduce water runoff and limit the urban heat island effect; etc. Failing to do

so and instead following the ideology Van Horn critiques where “the flow of business-not the

river- was mistaken as the lifeblood of the city, and. . . the river was engineered to flow

backward, away from the city, to carry the froth of human-produced waste out of sight”(Van

Horn 199) leads to the simultaneous destruction of nature and decrease in human enjoyment of

the area. From this we can deduce a rather logical conclusion: limiting climate change is a simple

choice to be aware of our actions, rather than ignore the consequences of our decisions.

As I reflect upon our discussion so far, I see a sort of patchwork of a variety of concepts.

We see the implications of past decisions as exemplified by the highways surrounding the

Trexler Nature Preserve, preventing future expansion and animal freedom; we also see Van

Horn’s example of ignoring these consequences, and misusing our natural landmarks. We can

also look to the future, again using the Trexler Environmental Center as an example to
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reproduce. Limiting climate change’s hold on our society comes down to a choice we make to be

conscious of our surroundings as we expand into them. We see a series of different boundaries or

limitations on our society. And this is how I feel modern environmentalism appears: a mixed

cluster of topics all looking to prolong the ecological health of our planet. We look to our history

to prevent making the same mistakes we made prior, and also to our science to create a livable

future.
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Works Cited

Cronon, William. The Trouble with Wilderness: Or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature. Norton,

1995.

Horn, Van Gavin. “Greenways.” The Way of Coyote: Shared Journeys in the Urban Wilds, The

University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL, IL, 2018, pp. 159–183.

Marris, Emma. “Weeding the Jungle.” Rambunctious Garden: Saving Nature in a Post-Wild

World, Bloomsbury, New York, NY, 2013, pp. 1–15.

Price, Jennifer. “Thirteen Ways of Seeing Nature in LA.” Land of Sunshine: An Environmental

History of Metropolitan Los Angeles, University of Pittsburgh Press, Pittsburgh, PA,

2005, pp. 220–244.

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