Leaf Watching.

Sylvie Shaw

Young leaves along the river trail glow in the aftermath of rain. Crimson. Bronze. Copper.

As the new leaves grow they change colour due to the green pigment that is Cholorphyll. Cholorphyll is a natural molecule engaged in an intimate tango with the sun and the wider ecosystem. It is also a very clever molecule. Its role is to capture the sun's energy so that it can be harvested for use in leaf and plant growth. By absorbing the sun's energy, Chlorophyll is able to synthesise carbohydrates from carbon dioxide and water and produce sugars in the form of glucose.

This whole process from energy absorption to flourishing plant life is known as photosynthesis, literally meaning 'putting together with light'. Photosynthesis is the basis for sustaining the life of all plants and, as humans and animals alike consume plants of all varieties, and as humans breathe the oxygen from trees, this wondrous eco-cycle is the basis for sustaining the life of the whole planet.

The young new growth along the river trail, the scarlet of the Callistemons, the coppery leaves of some Eucalypts and the crimsons of other gum species, have not yet been awoken to Cholorophyll's green energy. In contrast, the colour fiesta of deciduous leaves in Autumn has lost its Chlorophyll greenness and as the green fades, bountiful yellows, oranges, browns, reds and purples are revealed.

As the weather cools, the energy exchange between plant and sun begins to grow sluggish. The colour green from Chlorophyll is slowly sucked from the leaves allowing the beauty of the changing seasons to explode into multiple hues. The reds and yellows are present in the leaves all the time but are not visible until Autumn when the green from Chlorophyll slowly vanishes.

When the sun's energy withdraws and the days grow colder, the glucose stored in the leaves is transformed into myriad luscious shades of yellows (known as 'carotenoids') and reds (known as 'anthocyanins'). The brightness and intensity of the Autumn colour fiesta is based on the kinds of weather patterns experienced both before and during the withering away of the Chlorophyll molecules. Cold nights, clear sunny days and adequate soil moisture are the most favourable conditions for the most spectacular display of colour.

Jeffrey Dawson, Professor of Professor of Tree Physiology at the University of Illinois has studied the magical process of photosynthesis and comments almost with a scientifically-embedded religious fervour:

'Leaf pigments behind the flashy autumn display of color ... are much more than cellular trash. Recognizing tree colors not only for their beauty, but also for the complex and vital roles the underlying pigments play in forest function and survival, might just bring new awe and appreciation to the autumnal rite of leaf peeping.'

'New awe and appreciation' can perhaps be interpreted as a new spiritual movement of leaf watching in Autumn. While photosynthesis is the holy ritual of this new spirituality.

Reference
Dawson J, n.d., Why Tree Leaves Turn Color in Autumn, http://web.extension.uiuc.edu/forestry/fall_colors.html

From blogsite, River Stories and Sense of Place, http://rivercityandsenseofplace.blogspot.com

New Moon Over the River*

Sylvie Shaw

The crescent hangs in the pale evening sky. The river breathes. The last carrolling of the Magpie and the laughter of the Kookaburra fade as darkness falls. Flying Foxes perform their sunset exodus up from the river valley and out across the rooftops, flying fast in search of blossoms and fruit. At dusk, the environs of the Brisbane River are indeed alive with movement and sound as night descends.

Being part of the river and connecting with its flow and the life of creatures who dwell here has been a significant factor in getting to know place. Being immersed within its ecosystem, though, has brought mixed feelings - as this beautiful valley makes way for ever-expanding and frequently unthinking development. Sustainable growth is possible, sustainable housing is practical - but both require a determined mindset that brings nature and the needs of the ecosystem as active players into government planning and decision making.

Perhaps too, it requires an awarenss of the benefits of nature connecting or nature-based experience in enhancing (human) physiological and psychological health.

There is a growing body of evidence that being in nature, connecting with green and blue places, from hiking to gardening, from wilderness excursions to sitting in the local park, correspond to increased mental health outcomes and psychological development (Davis, 2004). Active engagement in the outdoors provides opportunities for exercise and other activities beneficial for healthy living (Burton et al, 2007). So a reduction in green space amenity can affect a community's health and wellbeing, and certainly, all around this river city, green and treed spaces are being squeezed.

The benefits of nature-based experiences are felt holistically - touching the physical, emotional and spiritual health and wellbeing of individuals. In particular they are seen to have a formative effect on childhood and adolescent development (Kaplan and Kaplan, 1989; Kellert, 2007). In fact, Stephen Kellert maintains that 'children have an inherent need for nature' for development, learning and stimulation, while Richard Louv (2005), in his book 'Last Child in the Woods', has postulated that children are suffering from 'nature deficit disorder'.

Nature deficit disorder is not only an issue for children. As lifestyles change, as gardens disappear, as trees are cut, as people move into apartments or homes without surrounding green space, the city too suffers along with its citizens (including the animals, insects, frogs and birds), from nature deficit disorder.

If meaningful experiences in nature, even in inner-city spaces, can give rise to improved mental and physical health, then a reduction in green spaces, by extension, could be seen to give rise to decreased opportunities for those improvements to take place. If the society values interior experiences more than those taking place in the exterior, to what extent will this impact on the physical and mental health outcomes for the community?

This is especially relevant in childhood where increasing time spent in indoor activities (e.g. computer games) may deleteriously impact physical health (Thomas and Thompson, 2004). A lack of exercise is already an apparent factor in increasing childhood obesity.

On the spiritual level, nature experiences can trigger peak experiences (Davis, 2004), defined as 'experiences of optimal mental health... characterized... by a sense of tranquility and serenity', personal transformation and insight. Wilderness guide and transpersonal (eco)psychologist John Davis states that it is experiences in the wilderness especially that promote the feeling 'that the world is enchanted, alive, whole and meaningful'. This gives rise, he says, to the realization that nature and wilderness encounters can lead us (humans) 'to feel more enchanted, alive, whole, and meaningful'.

With this feeling in mind, the River is calling.

References
Burton NW, B Oldenburg, JF Sallis and G Turrell, 2007, Measuring Psychological, Social, and Environmental Influences on Leisure-Time Physical Activity among Adults,
CJC Consulting, K Willis and L Osman, 2005, Economic Benefits of Accessible Green Spaces for Physical and Mental Health: Scoping Study, CJC Consulting, Oxford, UK.
Davis J, 2004, Psychological Benefits of Nature Experiences: An Outline of Research and Theory. With Special Reference to Transpersonal Psychology. http://www.johnvdavis.com/ep/benefits.htm
Kaplan R and S Kaplan, 1989, The Experience of Nature: A Psychological Perspective. New York: Cambridge.
Thomas G and G Thompson, 2004, A Child's Place: Why Environment Matters to Children. London: Green Alliance/DEMOS.
* Note: This is a copy of today's River Stories and Sense of Place blog that I write @: http://rivercityandsenseofplace.blogspot.com

River, Morning, Watchful

Sylvie Shaw

The river valley is awash with rain, green growth exploding, birds dancing in the branches, water gleaming in the morning sun.

Where is the spirituality within this place?

For me, spiritual connection is found embedded in place, in the movement of the tidal waters, in the glorious sound of bird song, in the changing patterns of the weather, in the strong plant growth since the rains came, in the possibility of seeing what's often hidden, eels, fish, lizards.

Spirituality emerges in the connection to the place, the reverence for the river and the daily ritual of paying homage to its flow. Spirituality arises too in the knowldge of its plight and the fight to protect it - an ecosystem under threat from development, upstream agricultural runoff and continuous habitat destruction.

For Aboriginal people, the Turrbal and Jaggera peoples, this is, and was, and will be, sacred land and river space. They hold the memory of the time before white settlement when the river was crystal clear, a waterway where fishing was abundant and species bountiful.

Remembering the life of the river and the sacredness of the past is an impetus to recognise the sacredness in the present and venerate the life that flows through this river city.