But if you’re not convinced by mounting evidence that we’re responsible for heating things up on Earth, then these words are for you. And I thank you for visiting a treehugging artist’s website.

Let’s say climate change is NOT happening, or if it is, it’s NOT caused by us and our massive output of industrial emissions. So, what happens if we make a huge societal effort to reduce pollutants, especially airborne ones, develop alternative fuels and so on?  This will require big effort and behavioral change and capital investment.  Some argue this may cause further job losses and economic instability.  The scenarios quickly become complex, unpredictable and easy to argue in either direction: from positive to minimally harmful to economical devastating.

Now consider the other possibility: that we the people are causing what many of the world’s scientists consider the most severe climatic changes in recorded history.  And that if we don’t change now, things will get worse, possibly reach a tipping point and become irreversible.

So I say simply this: the stakes are too high to take the chance we are not causing global warming.  And I ask you to ask what happens if we stay the course, and what happens if we make big changes to clean up our act?  If we keep polluting as usual, gambling that our ecosystem can absorb increasing (e.g., the industrialization of China) amount of pollutants like hydrocarbons into our air, land, and water (think recent massive oil spills), and toss in industrial accidents polluting all three elements at once, as in Japan…what happens if we’re wrong?  We have everything to lose if we are responsible for climate change and fail to change.

Conversely, what do we lose by cleaning up our act anyway? If you agree that all outcomes are ultimately guesswork, isn’t it possible our economies could actually thrive from an energy evolution?  Couldn’t creating new, cleaner technologies—and jobs—to replace dirty, old ones (like coal and oil) might accomplish both goals at once— turn the tide of climate change and create economic opportunities.

What’s all this got to do with trees?  An article by Justin Gillis in the The New York Times is filled with information about the great stuff trees and forests do for the ecosystem.  Here’s just one tidbit and then I leave you on your own to read so much more within:

…while a majority of the world’s people now live in cities, they depend more than ever on forests, in a way that few of them understand.  Scientists have figured out — with the precise numbers deduced only recently — that forests have been absorbing more than a quarter of the carbon dioxide that people are putting into the air by burning fossil fuels and other activities. It is an amount so large that trees are effectively absorbing the emissions from all the world’s cars and trucks.

I do wonder if his approach is genuinely “scientific” enough to convince skeptics of the connectedness of us humans to everything around us,  including the plant kingdom we have evolved alongside for countless generations (thanks, Jan Brittenson, for this reminder), but it’s surely worth a read: http://www.blindedbyscience.co.uk/chapter8_plants.html

When I’m near trees—and always feel better for being so—I don’t brush this phenomenon aside as merely emotional or romantic—or without profound meaning.  It’s just meaningful in a different realm than traditional Western science usually pays attention to, with its view of an objective reality, double-blind repeatable experiments, and so on.  And yes, there are some folks who don’t care much for trees, and many who have never hugged one.

"Forever Grandmother" excerpt

My way to reconcile the divide between so-called rational and non-rational views of the world and my perceptions of it is to not reconcile them.  I simply let them co-exist.  Each view, in my experience, has great value yet may forever remain irreconcilable—at least to my rational mind.  I could say, deliciously unscientifically, such is often the divide between the head and the heart.

Funny thing is, I believe absolutely that hugging trees is benefical, if “only” from firsthand experience.  I know it even today as I step away from my computer to touch the redwood trees outside my office.  Call it empiricism if you like, even call it hooey.  I call it one of the realms most impenetrable to modern scientific analysis: love.

You go, Matthew.

The real beginning for me, the initial seed of an idea for this book, bizarrely came from a tree. I am sure I have a pretty average knowledge of trees amongst a generation of other city dwellers. I can recognise some trees, but very few of them. I know they grow leaves in the Spring which fall off in the Autumn. I know some trees keep their leaves all year round, I know I really love standing next to big trees and for some reason I always find myself gravitating towards them whilst in the local park. I like trees, but besides climbing them as a child I don’t think I have ever thought much about them. Until that day. The day that someone, for whom I had great respect, casually told me to go and touch a tree as it would improve my health. Well, you can imagine my look of complete incredulity. It was probably one of the most ridiculous suggestions I think anyone had ever made to me that I should go to the park, stand next to a tree and touch it. Just the thought of it was ridiculous. I am sure I had touched trees before, certainly whilst climbing them as a child and couldn’t remember noticing any physical effect it had on me either positively or negatively. You can understand therefore, I had no intention whatsoever of complying with his wishes and being made to look an idiot in the park, leaning against a tree, getting better. I mean, for how long would I have to do it, one minute, twenty minutes, God forbid an hour and which tree would I touch? A big one a little one – he hadn’t given me an instruction manual. It came as no surprise to me I didn’t take him up on his idea, but what did surprise me enormously, however, was my nineteen year old son took up his suggestion. Watching the result of him touching a tree, completely changed my opinion and in fact opened my eyes to a whole new world. I mean, if a tree can affect us what does that mean? The implications seemed to be huge – so much so that I wanted to investigate further and see what scientific evidence might lie behind it. – Matthew Silverstone, “Blinded by Science”

We destroy mountain tops to burn dirty coal.

Right now, while you and I go about our daily business, 2 young people have willingly put themselves in peril for what they believe in: saving forests and an entire mountain in West Virginia from destruction.

Becks Kolins, age 21, and Catherine Ann MacDougal, 24, now live, day and night, 80 feet off the ground, on platforms built into trees on Coal River Mountain, WW.  This is land under “mountain top removal coal mining operations” by Alpha Natural Resources.  (You can click Alphas link and tell them what you think.)  I put quotes around that phrase because the words don’t do it justice.  We humans now have the power to DYNAMITE AN ENTIRE MOUNTAIN TOP INTO OBLIVION.

Becks and Catherine, in trees just 300 feet from blasting operations, are on day 12 today, Monday, August 1st.  Withstanding heat and bugs and noise and company harassment, they’re already the longest tree sit in West Virginia history.

Alpha Natural Resources has the legal right to do this, but these environmental activists think it isn’t MORALLY right or environmentally sane.  I agree with them and their choice of non-violent civil disobedience to spotlight the huge harm coal mining does, especially in pristine wilderness areas.  It’s a dirty short-term game for a big net loss, both environmentally and economically.  (If you agree, click Alpha’s link and tell them so.)

tree sitters at red & white arrow

Share this post to bring attention to this deadly, destructive and ultimately expensive practice.  Expensive, if you factor in community and regional health costs—cancer rates skyrocket in surrounding communities because of air and groundwater pollutants.  Alpha predictably denies any correlation and claims there is no conclusive proof of a coal-cancer connection.  The affected health and the testimony of rural neighbors, often poor and without voice, say otherwise, as does common sense.

Coal is dirty at every stage, from extraction to end use.  Mining and its carcinogenic by-products kill or harm humans, animals, fish, insects—all members of an interconnected web of life we learned about in grade school — and depend on for our survival.  Left to their legal coal “removal” operations-as-usual, Coal River Mountain would be destroyed forever, and the surrounding air, land and water fouled for generations.

The Good News:  We can expose the massive harm these operations do, and wean ourselves off toxic fossil fuels onto cleaner, modern, renewable energies like wind, solar, and geothermal.

Learn more about activists challenging mountaintop removal coal mining: www.rampscampaign.org.

Please share this post to bring attention to this deadly, expensive and self-destructive practice.

For all our sakes,

Jack Gescheidt

loving a tree

See the moving trailer for a 33-min. documentary film about one man, Joel Tauber, who takes it upon himself to care and lobby for one small tree surrounded by a sea of pavement in a parking lot in southern California—home of The Rose Bowl!: http://www.SickAmour.com

Read more about it: http://www.joeltauber.com/sickamour.html

the object of Joel's affection

More about Son of a Farmer, Child of the Earth: examines commercial agriculture’s strain on our natural resources, delicate ecosystems, and the farmer. As a fourth-generation farmer, Eric Herm deals with the harsh economic realities and complicated legislation facing farmers, as well as the undeniable health impact of GMO crops and excessive chemicals on all living creatures. Son of a Farmer, Child of the Earth provides ample resources of natural, healthy alternatives that will inspire the farmers’ transformation from corporate-motivated producers back to the flesh and bone guardian angels of the Earth.

A blog excerpt of Eric’s, “The Art of Opposing GMOs”: Here’s the thing about being against GMOs: We’re in the minority. Not because so many Americans think there is nothing wrong with genetically-modified crops and food, but simply because most Americans have no idea what they are. It is our job, those of us who do know, to continue to beat the drum on this issue. It’s not up to someone else. It’s up to each one of us.

I salute Eric for disseminating information about both this huge societal ill—AND its solution: education, awareness, and our ability to choose what’s best for ourselves.  We are far from powerless.  Spread the word!

WHY?: To call attention to the Angel Oak’s being threatened by a large housing development.

See the final TreeSpirit photograph, “Angels,” and purchase a fine art print to enjoy—and support this and future TreeSpirit Project efforts: see “Angels”

“Angels”

We knew Charleston city police might be called to the scene.  We did NOT expect them called before anyone’s clothing came off for the TreeSpirit photo.  We had just 90 seconds to compose the photograph before the first young officer arrived.  (Later he said all he saw as he drove up was “lots of naked butts running from the tree…”)

Yes, I tried to get a permit, but park rules exclude any gathering over 25 people, nudity or not.  I was also denied after-hours access.  We decided as a group to proceed anyway, just before closing, to cause the minimum disturbance.  A handful of other park visitors on the scene were surprised or amused, but none were offended; not one lodged a complaint.

Our 2 goals were achieved: 1) to make an artwork celebrating the beauty of the Angel Oak, and; 2) to call attention to the planned housing project that would cut down most of The Angel Oak’s 40-acre surrounding forest and pave over an adjacent wetlands and irrevocably alter the surrounding rural environment.  The issue is currently in court and public sentiment—which affects politicians’ actions—is critical.

SEE TV and news coverage of the event, click here.

• Charleston City Paper story: http://www.charlestoncitypaper.com/charleston/first-look-the-angel-oak-nude-shoot/Content?oid=3391208

Charleston police were professional and courteous.  As were we. More officers arrived on the scene than I expected—at least 8—on up the chain of command to a 43-year veteran Lieutenant.  He’d seen it all (except maybe this) and hid a wry smile beneath his game face.  My guess is they didn’t quite know what to do with us.  We weren’t technically trespassing.  No other Angel Oak visitor complained.  And large groups routinely make photos sans permit (albeit not sans clothing).

After 2 hours, we were all released without arrest or citation. And I must say I’m impressed with Charleston police response time on rural Johns Island, on the outskirts of town.  Naked tree huggers beware.

Please share this story about the beloved landmark Angel Oak Tree and its forest. We traveled across the country, from California to South Carolina, to publicize the conflict here—between development and community green space—because it’s occurring all over America.  I not against developement; I am FOR environmentally smart development and so-called “green” jobs, and by the truck-load.  It’s how we’ll do meaningful work, feed our families, but while keeping our precious air, land, and soil healthy.  I believe we’re gradually learning as a society, and as a culture, that our lives are enriched by trees, forest and wild places.  For those who focus on dollars, open space has greater long-range economic value than developments that would replace them, if you factor in usually ignored long-range health costs.

We can earn our livelihoods while cherishing precious natural resources.  Forests, wetlands, animal habitats, are not only environmentally critical to our survival, but can provide us the peace of mind and happiness we all seek.

Sincerely,

Jack Gescheidt
The TreeSpirit Project
email me

PostScript: About Southern hospitality…

We, The TreeSpirit film crew and I, were delighted by the generosity of Johns Islanders and Charlestonians who opened their doors and homes and hearts to us.  These new friends, and their friends, and the locals who braved public nudity for a worthy cause in a supposedly conservative town, frankly overwhelmed us with their encouragement and support.  All to “hug” and preserve…a tree.  Ah, but what a tree.

My sense is they may prefer anonymity, at least in this forum, so I’ll say only, “You know who you are, and thank you.” But watch the future film’s credits.

Again I am reminded we all have more in common than we often imagine.  And beneath the surfaces of our everyday, work-a-day lives, in whatever region of the country, of all countries, we are far from alone in our love for the natural world.

The next large group TreeSpirit photo event will be held in May 2011. We’ll gather on rural Johns Island, SC (near Charleston) to make art to help this community save thousands of trees—and one giant, ancient tree, hundreds of years old: The Angel Oak Tree.  A housing development will cut down the 40-acre forest surrounding the Angel Oak on 3 sides—and fill in a wetlands—to erect 600 housing units local citizens don’t want or need.

Email me now to join the guest list for the exact date and time of this event: CLICK HERE As always, people of all ages, sizes, shapes and ethnicities are welcomed and appreciated.  The only requirement, what ties us always together, are our open hearts and love for trees and nature.  See dozens of previous TreeSpirit Project photographs here: http://www.TreeSpiritProject.com.
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Support this trip and its mission! Purchase the fine art Angel Oak TreeSpirit photograph in advance—for half-price—to support this event to save this amazing tree and its forest.  CLICK HERE.

Angel Oak FUTURE TreeSpirit photo

A signed 11×14″ fine art print is $125, regularly $250.  A 16×20″ limited edition fine art print is $325, retail $650.  Sizes up to 40×50″ are available.  CLICK HERE

Help TreeSpirit highlight the critical role trees play in our lives, help a community of fellow tree lovers in South Carolina save their beloved tree, and get a stunning print of The Angel Oak.

LightSource lab in San Francisco is generously providing the Angel Oak TreeSpirit prints on 100% virgin tree-free paper.
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Google “Angel Oak Tree” to see hundreds more photos of this famous, giant southern live oak; evidence of how many Americans have visited her…and felt moved to make and share photos of their own.

The majority of Johns Islanders wants to preserve the wooded sanctuary that surrounds The Angel Oak Tree.  Business-as-usual interests don’t care, want to sidestep community input, and start clearing the land of trees.  A local citizen’s group—http://www.SaveTheAngelOak.org—has challenged the development in court, and invites public scrutiny and involvement.  A TreeSpirit photograph will help draw attention and media coverage, to make the devastating plans more public.

The forest protects The Angel Oak from storm winds.  The water table—which would be filled in and paved over—feeds her extensive root system.  Both have done so for hundreds of years.  This forest’s destruction would be a great environmental loss itself.  Thousands of annual Angel Oak visitors would no longer enjoy this wooded retreat, but instead see and hear a housing project yards away.  Wildlife habitat would be destroyed.  (See the Before and After pictures.)

BEFORE and AFTER “development”

The Angel Oak is ground zero for the latest of what I call an “Old Paradigm vs. New Paradigm” conflict.  The Old Paradigm places profit and buildings above all else.  The New Paradigm balances the benefits of development with the value and social and health benefits of parklands, trees and open space in our communities.  Construction in the 21st century CAN be environmentally sound, benefit a community, and therefore win its support.  Citizens can powerfully and peacefully challenge business and political interests that seek profits while threatening our health.  Development need not equal devastation.  But we must speak out, get involved, let our neighbors know what’s happening.  This event is a safe, legal and dramatic way to do so.

SaveTheAngelOak.org has more information about the 2-year-old legal challenge, and shows a community caring about its trees, and precious rural countryside.

Our May gathering will be peaceful, simple,  and dramatic. As always, the TreeSpirit photo event will be non-confrontational, respectful and sincere, all ingredients essential to the photograph’s success.  The result will be a timeless image showing a gathering of people demonstrating their love…for a tree. How unusual, how lovely, how revolutionary, how crazy, how wonderful that people making art can have such impact.  As always, each participant will receive a digital image (prints 8×10″) of the final photograph we make together.

To participate, join the Guest List for this event (emails are never shared or sold, not ever): CLICK HERE. Please share this posting with fellow tree and nature admirers.
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…The TreeSpirit documentary film, “Out On A Limb,” continues production!  Director Navyo Ericsen and producer Larry Schlessinger will continue filming TreeSpirit photo events at The Angel Oak.  See footage from the last TreeSpirit shoot in Humboldt County to save old-growth redwoods from a highway expansion: CLICK HERE.

Hwy 101 thru Richardson Grove State Park

Wow.  What a (Sun)day, what a trip.  We — I and the TreeSpirit film crew — entered Humboldt County the weekend of Sept. 11-12 with strong intentions, lots of passion, crazy optimism—and our share of concerns and fears.  After all, we’d gone to a lot of trouble to PUBLICIZE this event, so we were expecting some kind of authorities to meet and, uh, greet us.  The only question was WHICH AM: park rangers, CHPs, police, sheriff or mix ‘n match?

What DID surprise me was the row of cars—and eager participants—already waiting for me at the meeting place along Hwy 101, one-half mile south of The Richardson Grove redwoods—at 6:55am.  After being warned about “Humboldt time” – meaning everything’s later than planned, scheduling is more relaxed, and chill out man, it’s all good, ironically, perhaps poetically, it was WE traveling Marinades who kept enthusiastic tree lovers waiting, not the other way around.  (To be fair, our The TreeSpirit film production schedule was ambitious—and we hit snags, like the ones to come this very morning.)

But here they were, fellow treehuggers awake before dawn to show their care for trees, trees over 1,000, over 2,000 years old.  The kind of trees that almost every human, treehugger or not, feels SOMETHING different, something significant, while in their presence.  The word had gotten out, thanks to many residents and fellow friends of redwoods who, felt compelled to join me in a peaceful but dramatic demonstration to save old-growth redwoods from being harmed.  (CalTrans wants to cut into the roots of over seventy (!) old-growth redwoods, some 1,000 and 2,000-year-olds, to expand Hwy 101 through the middle of Richardson Grove State Park, currently posted at 35 mph. That’s too slow for some, and already too fast for people like me (since, of course, people regularly buzz through at 40-45mph).

By the time we moved the cars out of sight from the road, put people in place to direct additional arriving cars, and finally gathered to talk logistics, we were about 50 people strong.  That’s when the (Richardson Grove State) park rangers came.

I spent a lot of time and energy planning this event to make it public and accessible.  So did many people in Humboldt who generously offered THEIR time and energy.  Our emails and leafletting made the local paper and radio station (KMUD). At the same time I did not fully disclose every detail because I thought we might have to play hide and seek with authorities who would respond to our invitation.  The game began weeks before this Sunday, Sept. 12th.

A ranger stepped out of his SUV to address the group.  He told us he had heard about the photo, and that we would be violating two park codes against large assemblies without special permitting, and against nudity anywhere in a state park.  And of course he announced the code numbers in case any of us were interested.  (I was not.)  He was professional and polite.  In my opinion—and the majority of our group agreed—given the job he was assigned to do, he couldn’t have been more polite or low-key.  (Although his not visiting us at all would still be my first choice.)  He delivered his message, walked away, drove away.

I asked the group to circle up.  I asked whether they were wiling to proceed despite this warning and the risks, whatever those might be.  I asked for a show of hands…and everyone’s hand went unhesitatingly, enthusiastically up.  I realized (again), that this was Humboldt county, home to decades of logging demonstrations, protests, both nonviolent and violent, with feelings running strong and deep.  (And on both sides of forest issues—and there are often more than just two sides.  For instance, the well-known “Save The Redwoods League” has NOT come out against the CalTrans plan that many believe would harm and kill old-growth redwoods.  Their stance is seen as a compromise or, worse, a sell-out, and cause of bitterness and anger for some in the “forest defense” community.)

Our next step was moving to a staging area much closer to the actual photo location, until now known only to a few: me, assistants, the film crew and volunteer coordinators.  I had wanted to hike everyone in, about 30-45 min., get our blood moving and spend time enjoying walking among the trees.  But the day before I changed my mind, and now I was sure of this new plan: our chances of traveling undiscovered were better if we, sorry to say it, carpooled in.  This would avoiding an unusually long procession of hikers crossing Hwy 101 south of the grove where we stood.  And then crossing Hwy 101 again, via walkways in the grove itself, again in plain sight, to finally reach the staging area 100 yards from the photo location.

Driving meant speed and discretion.  One small group was set on walking anyway, but the visible majority of us began a car-shell game.  The drive necessitated going through the park’s entrance to buy a 3-hour pass giving access to the only roads to our staging area.  Minutes later, at the little entrance booth where an attendant collect entrance fees, I saw on its window an 8.5×11″ posted sign that read: “There will be no special photo event today.”  Well, that made our unofficialness official.  The Parks Dept. sure didn’t tell ME our photo event had been cancelled.  I was the organizer and I still thought it was on, as did all the people in my car, and all the treelovers piled into the cars lined up behind us.

Plus, the park desperately needs—and deserves—all the funds it can get, and we happily paid.  No matter what else happens this day, the park would get some extra money.  With a welcoming smile from the booth attendant, we drove on in, leaving behind us a line of cars that, at 8AM on a Sunday morning, yelled out, to me, “Something’s going on here!”  At some point you just have to cross your fingers, say your prayers, and move forward, stealth begone.

By now, roaming about the park’s interior roadways were ranger SUVs, mercifully bright and clean white and easy to spot amid dark redwood trunks.  After dropping off my tripod and big, bright blue camera bag—more loud tip-offs!—at the staging area with a participant, I drove off to park my car 1/4 mile away.  I wrangled some some other cars to join my parking spot, spreading the vehicular congestion around, hoping to throw the rangers off our assembly’s trail.  At 8AM on a Sunday in Richardson Grove State Park, “where there’s cars, there’s people.”

We all regrouped behind a wooden amphitheater’s facade, our staging area 100 yards from the photo location.  This partially hid us from the parking lot and roadway where two ranger vehicles were sitting.  I talked to the group, asked them to sign the usual TreeSpirit Project and Film releases giving us permission to use the final TreeSpirit photo, showed them test photos I’d made 2 weeks earlier to explain today’s photo composition and location, and gave a quick demonstration of what I would ask them to do in relationship with the redwoods this morning.

All the while, I felt an internal growing pressure to get on with it, that we were already pressing our good luck.  The rangers were inexplicably keeping a respectful distance.  But really, I have to point out, if the rangers wanted to shut us down, here we were, and there we were, as visible as the redwoods we were here to make art and it now seemed, theater, for.  This was the puzzling theme of the morning, for almost two hours, from about 7:20AM until almost 9AM.  Why weren’t they just walking over to us again, right now?  They could say we did not have a permit for gathering lots of people, which park rules say we need and we did not have.  The one advantage we had was knowing where we were going to make the photo while they did not.  And perhaps they were giving us leeway because no one, so far, was naked, a state park no-no.

Finally, at around 8:30AM, we made our 2nd migration.  We all walked, in separated clumps, along the interpretative trail paralleling Hwy 101 in front of the Visitor Center (which was closed before 9AM).  We now stood adjacent to some of the largest, oldest redwoods rooted literally three inches from the pavement.  (And why CalTrans wants to hack into and/or compress their living root systems beneath more road bed.)  I asked for everyone to spread out in a line 50 yards long and wait for my signal.  When I gave it, they were to remove all their clothing and move quickly through the brush to specific giant redwoods in my camera’s composition.  I asked for my assistants to join me at the roadway’s edge.  I set up my camera and tripod, leaving my big bright blue camera bag behind in the brush.  I pointed out to them as best I could which trees to run to, where they would be human markers for the soon-to-be-naked participants.  And off the ran, 40-100 yards north along empty Hwy 101 to those trees, human markers for all the other participants waiting on the trail just a few yards away.

I ran away from my camera & tripod, back to the trail where all the tree lovers were waiting for my signal.  As if starting a Grand Prix road race, I moved my arm swiftly down from above my head to the ground, repeatedly.  And they were off!  First the clothes, and then the tree huggers.  I ran back to my camera position and got ready for the action I’d waited months for.  In just a few more seconds, beautiful naked tree people would appear at the trees along the roadway.  After all the morning’s maneuverings and dodging and planning and meetings, with park rangers still just yards away…

They ran to the redwoods and embraced them as planned.  I figured I had only a few minutes to make this photo before the rangers would react to this flurry of activity, object to our being so close to the roadway, object to the nudity, who knows what.  Adrenaline slowed down what little time I had.  Someone behind me, I think it was Navyo, the documentary film’s director, let out some sort of emotional cry, something like, “I don’t believe it!”  Indeed.  I didn’t have time to revel in success yet, or let land that it was actually happening, that after all our planning and being shadowed by rangers assigned to warn us off this activity, we as a community were bringing a vision to life.  I’ve found that for anything I’ve anticipated and contemplated (or feared) doing for so long, the experience is always different than the imagining of it.  Hence the necessity, the beauty of…doing.

I saw that people were not at all the exact trees I would have preferred.  I thought to yell out to quickly move some from one tree to another I thought worked better in my composition.  And then I thought better of it.  We didn’t have the time.  “Work with what I had,” I thought, “now or never.”  Better to make a photo with what was before me now, get something, rather than mess around and maybe get shut down and get nothing.  I had already chosen my shutter and aperture and ISO based on the typically low light among redwoods, framed up what I saw the best I could and kept my mouth shut.  I’m used to calling out directions numerous time but did so only twice I think: Plant your feet on the ground!” was one.  “Melt into the trees!” was probably another.  I don’t know, don’t ask me, ask the film director, maybe he knows.

But I knew the more I yelled the more likely rangers would step out of the brush, out onto to the road or, worse, at my camera position where the guy yelling was.  That would be me.  I kept my adjustments to a bare minimum, not taking full advantage of all my art director’s suggestions.  She knows what I like and can scan the giant scene more thoroughly than I can when I’m buried in my camera making sure I’m getting some images.  Get some in the camera, I knew, and then get us all out of there.  Hardly the peaceful, communing experience I prefer at TreeSpirit photo events, but in this case, with getting the photo seeming paramount to me, this would have to do.

Another thought flashed through me as I was concentrating on the amazing scene, and a rush of feeling accompanied it: “this is so BEAUTIFUL!” These people willing to hug trees, trees so big ten people can’t link arms around them, were now doing this unusual, quiet, peaceful activity in these few moments of stillness we could savor, even with the occasional car or truck or motorcycle driving through the scene!  All our planning and worrying and sneaking around, all our concern for legalities and logistics—and here it was, happening now.  It was really so innocent and harmless and simple, people willing to be daring and ridiculed for, at its essence…being loving with trees.

Finally, a large, sleek motor home that looked more like a tour bus appeared, heading south on Hwy 101 toward us.  When it was alongside the human-coated trees, it honked!  It didn’t slow or swerve, no one was endangered, but its honking was acknowledging, even celebratory.  Thirty seconds later a dog belonging to one of the tree huggers, missing its guardian for too long, howled…and the tree huggers howled back.

And this also broke my—perhaps everyone’s—sense that time was standing still.  I had a gut feeling that our luck and time had run out, that the rangers would appear, that we should stop and get out of here…NOW.  I asked my Art Director if she agreed.  She did.  I yelled out that we were done, watched to see people get the message and move off the trees, and then I grabbed my camera-on-tripod rig and ran off too—but not before pulling out the compact flash card with all the images on it.  I’m from New York, after all, and have years of experience hiding film canisters I thought might, just might, be confiscated by an pissed-off authority.  “Just a precaution,” as my ol’ hero Bugs Bunny once put it.

When I got back to my camera bag the director, Navyo Ericsen, was there with a gigantic smile on his face, bigger than mine because, despite my exuberance and our group’s triumph, there was still the matter of the clean getaway.  I handed Navyo the card and said take it, hide it, get it lost.  He understood.  Someone passed the news of a ranger, finally, on the trail headed our way.  I immediately walked in his direction now, rather than hanging back anonymously as I did 90 minutes earlier for his first appearance.  I would identify myself and take responsibility as the event organizer.  (I’ve learned it’s not always best to do this in advance because then, if I don’t heed any official’s warning, it may be taken personally, though there’s nothing personal in this for me at all; the rangers are people doing a job they’re assigned to do.)

The ranger asked to see my I.D.  I told him it was in my car which was parked 1/4-mile away.  We walked out together to get it.  The ranger was polite and accommodating again, allowing me to stop on the way to address the group again, back at the amphitheater staging area, also where we had planned to regroup.  I told some concerned participants there that I had business with the rangers and might see them later that afternoon.  We had planned additional, far less public TreeSpirit photos for that afternoon at an undisclosed location.

To tell the rest far more compactly: I spent the next two hours getting to my car, my wallet, my driver’s license, and finally to my citations for assembly without a permit and for “filming” which means “commercial filming” which is what CA State Parks call any filming by a professional photography.  Their rules don’t distinguish between a “commercial” photo shoot and a “professional” photo shoot.  Nor between today’s photo shoot and a major motion picture film company’s giant one.  It’s a controversial and hotly-contested topic among professional photographers who can be cited for setting up a tripod and camera anywhere in a state park without a permit.  A dentist with nice equipment can, be we pros can’t.  This same double-standard applies to National Parks.  The thinking behind the odd rule is that we might make money off one of our photos in the future, never mind that many of us won’t, or won’t most of the time.

My date in court has not come yet, and I’ll have to decide whether to challenge the citations (e.g., not a commercial shoot) or just pay them.  I don’t know if I’ll have to appear in Humboldt County court in Eureka.  For now I choose to focus on the many positives, and count my and our group’s blessings.  The rangers could have shut us down, walked unsettlingly among us, or stood right in my face.  They did not, and I have not asked them why.  They were polite and professional in our every encounter.  I prefer to guess at the answers.  Perhaps it was in part because we were peaceful, we were respectful, we were not intrusive to any other park visitor’s experience early that morning.  We didn’t even block the roadway, Hwy 101, or impede the few vehicles that drove by us while we made the photo.

And perhaps the rangers even knew, or heard, or sensed WHY we did what we did.  For the trees.  For the very same redwoods they themselves are assigned to protect.  I like to think so.

- Jack Gescheidt, October 2010

jack@treespiritproject.com
www.TreeSpiritProject.com

Another big reason for the more distant location: I had been given warnings a few day’s earlier by park/state/municipal officials, under two different jurisdictions, by phone and also by email, that what I was planning – hosting a group photo with nudity and without a permit – was not allowed. Apparently someone had forwarded my original open invitation to the authorities in Marin. (No, I do not know who, nor why, and the friendly officials I spoke with by phone didn’t know either.)

I was told I needed a permit for any large group assembly. I was told I needed a permit to take a “commercial” photograph. I was told I might be denied the permit anyway because of the nudity, disallowed on both state park land and municipal land (one has jurisdiction on one side of the road, another presides over the other). I learned officials label my plans “commercial photography,” categorized just like a big-budget advertising shoot. It didn’t matter that TreeSpirit was not for a commercial, had no budget at all, and that neither I nor the volunteer participants were being paid.

We came only to make art, have fun, and enjoy nature, a break from routine, and our spontaneous community—although if you have a connection to an appropriate (recycled paper?) environmentally-minded company that would like to fund or license a TreeSpirit photograph, please send them my way…

I’ve also learned, after the fact, you can’t get a permit for making a “commercial” photograph on Mt. Tam on any weekend because of the typically higher level of activity. I wonder if this applies to any summer Saturday or Sunday when the cold blanket of fog rolls in and drives everyone but the most adventurous nature lover off the 2,500-foot mountain’s chilly slopes.

I had a decision to make last week: obey the rules, cancel this springtime photo of celebration, apply for a permit for permission during the week, pay the applicable permit fee…and then try to assemble a group of volunteers on a weekday. I should also do it soon, before summer fogs roll in routinely and unpredictably.

I decided to proceed as planned. Perhaps from my formative years living in New York, I admit I have an aversion to red tape and beauracracies, and a willingness to sometimes break rules. I admit also that I chose, perhaps unwisely, to beg for forgiveness rather than ask for permission, a permit, and be denied, which would leave me few alternatives, and none in 2009.

I moved the photo location away from the parking area, and asked some participants to help me disperse the usual parking lot crowd before it formed. (Thank you, Claire, Kevin, Hans, Christina, David and Kevin for your on-the-scene help.) With a love for adventure—and walkie-talkies—they quietly guided over forty participants to the undisclosed location. If rangers came looking for us, they wouldn’t find the usual crowd of friendly, happy people milling about to find me, their host.

More strategy: I had decided NOT to tell the people on the guest list that park officials had been notified. I was concerned officials could be tipped off again. And this way only I was culpable for ignoring the warning; all the participants would be innocent (and therefore also behave innocently).

In one hour all but the parking lot valets were gathered at the location. I was ready to describe to everyone the image I had envisioned for the day, a group dance with a lone tree. And that’s when our team told us by walkie-talkies, “…They’re coming!” In just a few more minutes we saw who “they” were…first one…and then another…atop the hill looking down on our secluded spot…

They were a quarter-mile away, standing ironically enough, right next to the tree we would pose naked below. The deepening blue sky behind them showed their tans and dark greens in crisp relief. Sunglasses, walkie-talkies bigger and more powerful than ours, utility/gun belts, one topped with a park ranger hat…You knew from their body language, not just from their paraphernalia, they were NOT here to free themselves from their clothes and gear and join in today’s playful art-making…

My first thought: Don’t look! Pretend not to see them coming! Like a kid hiding from a monster by ducking under the covers. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide all our gear. Besides, I really wanted to make this photograph. Hidden from the park’s crowds as we were, I also couldn’t see how we would be bothering anyone—if we were even SEEN by anyone.

When TreeSpirit began six years ago it was just me, a camera bag, and a tripod. Now, as Sacred World Productions is developing the documentary about the challenges and dramas involved in the making of more and larger TreeSpirit photos, an entourage has formed: bigger, more visible, slower-moving. Today, this was two camera bags, another still photographer, her assistant, two videographers, sound person, and of course all their gear. A third camera crew had cancelled today at the last-minute and now I’m glad it did. In 2009 TreeSpirit has evolved into a small, mobile media crew. And today, we were also conspicuously without a “commercial photography” permit for our non-commercial shoot.

I look for the teachings in obstacles and setbacks; I believe they exist if I do. TreeSpirit’s media troupe exists to publicize our mission: what we’re doing and why, which is making dramatic, compelling humans-in-nature photographs to celebrate the natural world and to raise environmental consciousness. One of my many lessons from this day: it’s time I acknowledge that with TreeSpirit’s growth I must, at least in some situations like this, change my old one-man-band, run-and-gun mentality. Growing pains.

Several of us noted the rangers approached from more than one direction, like coyote circling their prey. I figured this is part of standard procedure. I learned later that some ranger “prey” actually try to run for it. True, in this magnificent rolling landscape it would have taken an HOUR to surround us from all four sides. Two sides, from above, would have to do. They couldn’t have known one would have sufficed because I don’t think we COULD have run if we wanted to. And I was crystal clear didn’t want to. Mostly because I wanted to stay, show these men in tan & green that we were completely harmless. Maybe they would warn us off, then leave us alone for 30 minutes to make our photo and then leave—and of course they were welcome to join in…

My past experience with park rangers has been only positive, like the time in Yosemite my brother threw his back out ten miles into the backcountry. The two rangers we hiked out to retrieve hiked back in with us, at dusk, carrying a litter (metal “stretcher”) so we could haul my brother out if need be. But that’s another story, involving a miraculous recovery and a helicopter…Suffice to say the rangers I’ve met love the outdoors as I do. It’s why they choose a job with as much work in the field as in the office, same as me.

I decided to wait for them to come all the way down to us from their perch above, rather than isolate myself from the group by going up to them. I also wanted them to get our vibe, see this gathering of gentle if permit-free nature lovers who were waiting quietly for this drama to play out. They hadn’t known they’d be ignoring a park official’s warning, only I did. I had made sure of that.

When the rangers reached us I introduced myself. After fact-finding (fact-confirming) I’m a photographer, I was going to make a nude photo, etc., I was told I was holding a “commercial shoot” without a permit. And that I’d made things worse by ignoring the warning I’d received. But of course. I spoke at length with two of the rangers then—and again while being escorted out to my car. They could not have been more polite, professional and respectful. Unfortunately they were equally unyielding. They were going to do their job assigned by their superiors, enforce the ordinances to the letter of the law. I don’t like the ordinances, don’t think it really applies to what we were doing and why—but their job of enforcement is one I DO support. We, the society, make these rules, not the rangers alone, and if we don’t like them we can expend energy to change them.

I’ve encountered officials over the last six years making TreeSpirit photographs, but realize today this was the first time any law enforcement personnel arrived BEFORE a photo even began. Perhaps I should consider that a great run of luck that has finally run out, and it’s time to go through the proper channels and paperwork. Ah, paperwork…the stuff I love to leave behind when I head for the woods…

I’m also saddened for a few reasons. The first: it was such a beautiful, warm, day, bursting with greenery and bird song and lupines and relaxed, smiling faces. The location, a steep hillside on Mt. Tam in Marin was a deepening blue as the sun lowered in the sky. The bushy dark green bay tree I wanted to play with remains, for now, an image only in my dreams. Over forty eager, peaceful, fellow outdoor enthusiasts made the effort to attend, to play boldly. They reminded me, before I was walked out by the men in uniforms, that it was a beautiful place to be that day regardless of the outcome.

I’m also sad acknowledging we have created rules which make it illegal for forty people to drive into a state park on a lovely Saturday or Sunday, walk to a secluded spot together and take off their clothes for twenty minutes to make a playful photograph that most likely no one else would even witness. If a group nude photo goes down on a hillside, and no one is there to see it, does it make a commotion?…

I was issued a citation for shooting without a permit. I don’t yet know how many dollars this fine is. I can choose to contest it in court, but I’m not convinced there is anything to contest. I’m responsible for what happened, and what didn’t happen. I took my chances, chose NOT to apply for a permit I thought I would be denied. I can of course request a permit in the future, but only for a shoot during the week. If it is granted—and this is progressive, art-minded Marin County so it’s possible—I can then see if enough TreeSpirit fans can attend mid-week. To my surprise and delight, many of yesterday’s would-be participants—you know who you are you beautiful souls—said they might.

Finally, I’m also sad because it’s all so…ridiculous! The rangers aren’t to blame, they were sent after us by officials. The officials of the CA state parks system—a park system that presides over millions of acres of land protected from development—simply enforce code. In fact there is no “them” to blame. Or them is US, we the people, as a collective. We have in us—and this includes me too—so much fear. Fear of people assembling in groups and acting destructively. Fear of accidents and injuries. (Fear of being denied a permit, in my case.) And of course fear about people being naked, which in my opinion is often related to fear of sexuality, our culture’s forbidden/insatiable hot topic.

One other ridiculousness: When officials use their misnomer, “commercial photography,” what they really mean is “professional” photography. I’m a professional photographer, not a commercial photographer on a commercial assignment. Oh how I wish this were a “commercial” shoot, meaning either literally one for a commercial in which case everyone is paid for broadcast rights, or in the more general sense that someone, anyone, was being paid. Or if I must be categorized with the Mercedes-Benz shoot I saw two nights earlier on the mountain, then cite me if you must, but then please give me their $1 million camera car rig. And a budget of any kind would increase the likelihood we could all assemble for a future, mid-week, ranger-escorted, permitted command appearance.

I have another question, from the artist-philosopher in me: “Do we really need all these rules?” Yes, rules can keep us safe. But too many rules can also make a cage. You’re alive in the cage, yes, live, but not fully alive. Read your Edward Abbey, he knew. All we did was gather quietly in a parking lot, walk 3/4-mile on gentle terrain to a warm hillside on a sunny day. From there we would have shed our clothes and peacefully, playfully posed for a photograph for about 20-30 minutes. Very few others would have seen us. That’s it. End of story. That’s all we wanted to do. Where’s the harm in it?

Difficult for me, too, is feeling the heat again rising today…it will top 80 degrees, warmer even than yesterday…it will be the warmest day of 2009 with spring arriving in full, languorous mysterious force…and I would LOVE to go out and play in the land with friends old and new, to make what I call a TreeSpirit photo…

I also know Sunday’s conflict was a tempest in a teapot, because much larger issues currently face our nation and planet. One of the biggest being how we often treat our mother Earth so unconsciously, fowling her air, land and water, simultaneously killing ourselves, but so gradually we usually don’t realize we’re doing it. The good news is we people are increasingly aware of this scientific reality. Hence the environmental, socio-political purpose behind The TreeSpirit Project’s celebration of our beautiful planet—humans and trees are interdependent. Put simply: if they die, we die.

I may decide to re-attempt making this photo with official permission, applying for the weekday permit, seeing who can take off early from work and hope, too, the summer fog doesn’t roll in as it often does. Then at least I could bring the film crew and relax. That would be sweet.

In peace,

Jack Gescheidt

TreeSpirit Project photographer Jack Gescheidt here, with news that the recent photograph on Sat., Feb 21 went splendidly—the rains stopped, the skies parted and 40 fellow nature lovers joined together to make a new TreeSpirit image depicting our communion with Mother Earth, pictured here. Titled, “We Are The River,” it’s also atop the Gallery page of The TreeSpirit Project website.

A reporter from the Pulitzer Prize-winning Point Reyes Light newspaper attended— and also enthusiastically participated to write from her direct experience. Read the whole cover story on TreeSpirit’s Press page: http://www.treespiritproject.com/Press.html

Also on the Press page, to the right of the Point Reyes Light, is a KUSF radio interview with sexologist Dr. Claudia Six which aired last September. We talked about TreeSpirit in some detail, so you can learn more about what motivates me to make TreeSpirit photographs.

The next TreeSpirit photo event is already in the planning stages, likely on Mt. Tamalpais in Marin county on Saturday, April 18. By then Mt. Tam’s lush green springtime hills will receive more and warmer sunshine. If you’d like to join this next—and likely warmer—TreeSpirit adventure, email me to join the Guest List: jack@treespiritproject.com. I’ll update you with the details (exact date, time, meeting place).

Meanwhile, I remind you—as I remind myself—to set aside time each day to step outside to breathe the spring air deeply. Enjoy the calm this simple act brings, especially during times of economic uncertainty and cultural change. Nature is always here to comfort us and bring us peace.

With appreciation,

Jack Gescheidt
jack@treespiritproject.com
http://www.TreeSpiritProject.com
Tel: 415.488.4200