Hopedance

Many of us may have heard the word "bioregion" but probably have only a vague notion of what it actually means.

A bioregion, obviously, has something to do with "place" and with the living matter that inhabits such a place.

But just how much "place" does a bioregion encompass? What distinguishes the life forms that range its boundaries?

A bioregion can be as large as you like. But it's probably best to start with our homes.

We know a region by its distinctive characteristics. In the U.S., we identify these characteristics more often by the names of roads, addresses, shopping malls and maybe even its weather patterns than by natural and living forms.

I must confess my own ignorance of native species of trees and shrubs, for example, which I see every day, even in my own back yard.

I couldn't tell you, really, what are the drainage patterns of nearby streams and rivers, how much they've been altered by human intervention, or whether the water is potable.

I have little knowledge of the soil beneath my feet, other than that it's sandy, or what its potential for growing food is. I haven't given much thought to it. I haven't had any need. I buy everything I need at the grocery store.

So what does it matter whether I'm familiar with my own surroundings and its potential for sustaining life forms, many of which could be used to meet my needs for food, clothing and shelter?

It matters a lot.

I've begun to consider in earnest the questions that bring closer to home the fact that I can do more to sustain myself, lessening my dependence on outside sources, and lessening also the impact of my actions on the environment.

The world situation demands it. Everywhere I go, people complain how impossible life is getting - its personal and environmental degradations and devastations, its hostilities and violence, its quickening and maddening pace.

No one seems to know what to do about it. We wag our heads in frustration and hope that somebody will come up with a solution.
The solution, I believe, is as close as the soil beneath our feet. As Bill Mollison, advocate for sustainable agriculture, argues: "The problem is the solution."

One way to begin thinking about how to turn things around is to take a closer look at where we live, to consider the elements that make up our bioregion.

I like to start with what is familiar and expand from there.

Recently, while browsing the Internet, I stumbled across a list of questions which, honestly, I had great difficulty answering. The questions are designed to get us thinking about the area in which we live.

Questions like: How much renewable energy is produced and used in your region? How much of the food consumed by people within your region is produced there?

The questions, adapted from Bill Devall's Simple in Means, Rich in Ends, are basic. You may think of other, more relevant questions. It's important in any event to begin the process, to locate ourselves in an identifiable bioregion that we can call home and to which we must give our utmost care.

An awareness of the resources and uniqueness of where we live can prod us to assume more responsibility for the treasures at our fingertips.

The following questions, then, are offered as an exercise in self-awareness. Some questions can be answered easily while others may require a lifetime of intimate experience and mature understanding of your place.

This is not a test to see how good a bioregionalist you are; no marks are awarded. Rather the aim is to stimulate your interest in the place where you live, to help you understand how you relate to it now, and to suggest ways in which you may wish to develop that relationship.

THE QUESTIONS

What are the native plants of your region?

What species have become extinct due to human interventions?

What native plants have edible parts at what seasons of the year?

What is the most endearing feature of the landscape for you? What do you fear the most in this region? Where are the headwaters of the river upon which you live?

How much has the drainage pattern of streams and rivers been altered by human action? Are there any ancient woods in your region, or other areas of semi-natural vegetation such as marsh or flower-rich meadow? How often do you visit them?

What wild animals do you regularly see and recognize?

What is the history of human modification of the landscape in your region?

Do you know any old people who can tell you of changes to the rivers, hills and woods, or about the old crafts and skills of dwelling in the place?

What was the landscape and way of life like in your region a thousand years ago, or two thousand?

What is the night-time like in your region? Can you see the stars on a clear night? How much time do you spend outdoors? Have you visited all the toxic waste dumps in your region? Can you name all the chemical compounds which have been deposited in the dumps? Do you know who owns the major parcels of land in your region?

How much fossil fuel is used in your region? Do you know where it comes from, how it is transported and where it is processed?

How much renewable energy is produced and used in your region?

How much of the food consumed by people within your region is produced there?

How much is imported from elsewhere in the U.S., and how much from overseas?

How many organic farms or market gardens are there in the region?

Climb the highest hill in your region. What do you find there?

Go for a walk in your neighborhood on the stormiest night of the year. Feel the currents of the wind, rain or snow. At what point in the walk do you feel danger, fear? Can you become part of the storm without suffering discomfort? Do you enjoy the storm or hate it?

These questions are adapted from a passage in Simple in Means, Rich in Ends, Bill Devall, Green Print, 1990.

Stacey Warde