Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Landscape Design and Laudato Si': Selective Maintenance



Graham Hogg, licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence


"12. What is more, Saint Francis, faithful to Scripture, invites us to see nature as a magnificent book in which God speaks to us and grants us a glimpse of his infinite beauty and goodness. 'Through the greatness and the beauty of creatures one comes to know by analogy their maker' (Wis 13:5); indeed, 'his eternal power and divinity have been made known through his works since the creation of the world' (Rom 1:20). For this reason, Francis asked that part of the friary garden always be left untouched, so that wild flowers and herbs could grow there, and those who saw them could raise their minds to God, the Creator of such beauty[21]. Rather than a problem to be solved, the world is a joyful mystery to be contemplated with gladness and praise."

This paragraph from His Holiness Pope Francis’s most recent encyclical references the idea of intentionally selective maintenance regimes that can be incorporated into landscape plans: “Francis asked that part of the friary garden always be left untouched.” Leaving an unmanicured or selectively maintained patch of open lawn or edge habitat that contains native plants, as small as 4 feet by 4 feet, can help everyday landscapes serve as vital stepping stones between habitat patches for various species endemic to an area [1].

The landscapes around the built environment are where the commingling of wild elements of the environment with the planned environment inevitably occurs
. “Messy aesthetics” may be a concern about implementing Saint Francis’s wild little patch. However, we can assess space to determine how to integrate such patches in ways that enhance the natural beauty of the landscape, rather than leaving it with a seemingly ignored appearance. The design of landscapes is a cocreative act between the designer and the Creator; human design, living Creation, and the abiotic environment all come together to create a landscape. The wild and the meticulously planned elements of a space should be capable of working together to make designs that function for the people who encounter the site and the species that depend on the what is in the site. A well-placed selective-maintenance patch of native plants can do just that, by aesthetically and ecologically enhancing a site.


Molly Burhans
goodlandproject.org

Sources:
[1] Batchelder, Burhans, and White. Portland Pollinator Vision Plan. Conway, MA: Conway School of Landscape Design. 2015. Print.

Monday, August 24, 2015

The Jesuit Value of Magis and Its Relationship to Landscapes

Credit: forest wanderer, http://www.forestwander.com/?p=1337












I would like to introduce you to the Good Land Project through the idea of the magis of landscapes. Magis means “more” or “better.” It is a term often connected with the Catholic religious order the Society of Jesus, more commonly known as the Jesuits. Understanding the magis of the landscape involves understanding what our landscapes can do for us and our world. How can we use landscapes to address pressing social and environmental justice issues—and how can we use them, to refer back to Jesuit jargon, ad majorem Dei gloriam, or “for the greater glory of God”?

Before the release of Laudato Si’ and the development of this project, when I was an undergraduate, I found myself in a monastery trying to discern my vocation. One of the compelling things about the monastic life to me is the sustainability of communal living, the value of and simplicity behind conservation through respectful sharing. It was not long before my first visit to a monastery that I began to explore the field of permaculture. Only a few years before that, during my independent studies, I was exposed to systems theory through the work of biologist Karl Ludwig von Bertalanffy. These things were moving thoughts about the land in new ways in my mind, and I found those thoughts came to life when I looked out from the dining room at this monastery. The sustainability of the community’s lifestyle was evident, but I looked out past my dinner plate, over acres of mowed grass toward woods, wondering, “What could this be?” How could the monastery get more from the land, or, returning to the Jesuit terminology, I began to wonder, “What is the magis of the landscape?”

Contemplation about the land is one of my favorite activities, and it seems to resonate well with environmental and social concerns of the times. Contemplating the land can open the mind to a fruitful world of academic and meditative explorations about cocreation, biology, patterns, beauty, and God. The magis of the landscape—how our lands can be turned into spaces that serve our needs while glorifying God—is a topic that will be explored in this blog regularly. I greatly appreciate the time you have taken to read this first post, and I hope and pray that we can work together to make the land do more—to make the land good.


Molly Burhans
goodlandproject.org