Janisse Ray
A friend of mine lent me “The Ecology of a Cracker Childhood”
while I was still living in Georgia, working as a wildland firefighter and conducting
prescribed burns in some of the very longleaf pine stands described in Janisse
Ray’s book. In it she weaves together her childhood with the ecology of the vanishing
longleaf pine forests that once carpeted the South. Either because the
descriptions of the longleaf stands so vividly reminded me of my own time spent
in the Georgia forests, or because I too, was hard at work to save the
endangered red-cockaded woodpecker (RCW), but the book struck a chord with me. I jumped right into “Wild Card Quilt,” her
second novel about returning to Georgia with her son after attending grad
school at the University of Montana, then her third, “Pinhook,” which at that
point in time was her most recent work. From these books I gained new-found
inspiration for the work I was doing with the US Fish & Wildlife
Service, and it was with wonder that I visited sites such as Moody Forest Natural Area, the Nature Conservancy/Georgia DNR managed property on the
Altamaha River. (Moody Forest is the only known example of an old-growth longleaf pine-blackjack
oak forest left; the site is home to 200 to 300-year-old longleaf and slash pines,
trees 600+ years in the cypress-tupelo sloughs, the endangered RCW, the gopher
tortoise and Eastern indigo snake.) Magic was restored to my work in the
southern pine forests after I had literally and figuratively burnt out from the
southern heat, the fires, the attitudes of many a southerner/coworker and the hopelessness
of trying to preserve anything from the sprawl of metropolitan Atlanta.
It was in the Greenville Journal that I noticed a tiny blurb about the South Carolina Native Plant Society hosting Janisse Ray as special
guest speaker, and I was ashamed to see she had published a plethora of new
books during my absence from Georgia. I intend to make up for lost time, I’ve
purchased her two newest works and am already fully immersed in “Drifting into
Darien,” about the extraordinary biodiversity of the Altamaha River corridor.
My friend had urged, “If you have the chance to go to a
reading, do it. She’ll get you really fired up!” And of course, I went. For two
hours I wasn’t mom/cook/household manager, but again the idealistic girl who
believed that our world can be saved, one tree and species at a time. Ms. Ray,
I thank you for that, as well as the ceaseless work you do on behalf of all the
creatures and places that have no voice of their own.
I insist you read “The Ecology of a Cracker Childhood,” the
recipient of multiple literary awards and honors, the book I chose to gift to my
parents in attempt to explain The South to them. If you’re into the food
revolution I suggest picking up her most recent work, “The Seed Underground: A
Growing Revolution to Save Food.” If you celebrated the possibility of the
return of the Ivory-billed Woodpecker from extinction, find “Drifting into
Darien” and if you’ve ever (or wish to) canoed the Okefenokee swamp, then “Pinhook”
is for you. I completely agree with the New York Times critic who proclaimed
Janisse Ray the Rachel Carson of the southeast, and after hearing her speak I
can’t wait to take my boys to Moody Forest so that they may pick up some magic
of their own.
No comments:
Post a Comment