A simple Holga shot taken of the Peter Iredale wreckage in Fort Stevens State Park along the northern Oregon coast. I have long found it somewhere between amusing and troubling that something such as a shipwreck can become such a tourist draw and so photogenic. Depending on the light you choose to view it in, this is a giant piece of scrap metal that mars a once unmarked beach. Now I certainly don't think the Peter Iredale should be dismantled, nor do I even think it an eyesore, as I have found many charming shots of it over the years and continue the visit this beach frequently to photograph the shipwreck.
Rather the point I want to make is we, as humans, have an incredible impact on the environment, more often than not in ways we never realize. How many visitors see the shipwreck as a giant piece of man-made trash, which technically speaking, it is? And this is a grand example. I have long been aware that as admirable as it is to get out of the concrete jungle of the city to see a bit of nature, it is arguably worse for said nature, than if we all just stayed home and watched TV. It is a bit of a double edged sword. And photographers are sometimes driven by their desire to capture the beauty of a landscape that they ironically cause more damage than the average tourist.
I noticed this on my recent trip to Mono Lake and noticed the many trails snaking off of the approved main trail, many leading over the delicate tufa mounds. I notice this when I see people climbing over railings and going cross country to get a better vantage for that beautiful shot they have in mind. I don't often notice the amount of gas I burn (and the emissions it produces) just in the act of driving to these many beautiful locations.
Most of this present train of thought was actually started earlier today at the Oregon coast while visiting Cobble Beach inside Yaquina Bay state park. Cobble Beach is a wonderfully unique beach made up of perfectly smooth and round cobble stones that make a neat rumbling noise when the surf washes up. Sadly the uniqueness of this beach makes the cobble stones prime souvenirs despite the many signs declaring the rocks, shells and wildlife off limits to collection. Most people are good about this, but there are always a few each visit I witness collecting a handful of rocks to take home. And that is the point of this little essay. It is not the big things (shipwrecks) that necessarily cause the greatest erosion of our natural areas, but the little things. The collecting of rocks and shells. Cutting off trail (and killing the plant life, thereby adding to erosion) to eliminate a hairpin corner instead of walking the extra five feet around the corner. Littering, a personal pet peeve of mine. And none of us are innocent no matter how careful we are. The gas burned just getting there as I mentioned. Even if you drive an electric emission-free vehicle, or walk, or bike. Your mere presence affects wildlife, the footsteps you take impact the environment and the photos you hopefully take attracts other visitors who may not be so careful.
I do not mean this to be all doom and gloom, nor is it meant to discourage us going out and enjoying the forest, the mountain, the beach, or the desert. I just had a couple of reminders myself today about how careful we all need to be, even when we believe we are being careful. Be gentle. Take only photos, leave only footprints. That sort of thing. And not to be shy about calling out those you see who are not careful, in a polite and respectful manner because positive peer pressure has a strong influence.
Whichever side of the environmental debate you fall on, you cannot deny that we humans have an impact on our environment, and regardless of the degree of that impact we all share the responsibility and the duty of limiting it when we can, to preserve those areas we enjoy so much for those who come after us. To think otherwise, in my opinion, is shortsighted and nothing short of selfish.
I just saw
this article on MSN by the way and it offers some interesting information.
Picture title borrowed from a Modest Mouse song.
