Tiffany Saunders
Prof. Alexandratos
MHC200
BioBlitz Essay
I’ve only had one unfortunate encounter with a tick in my lifetime, and though brief, it helped me to resolve my current outlook on the outdoors: no deep woods. Thus, my reaction upon receiving a cheery message about being transported to Staten Island with sunblock, long socks, and a can of bug spray as my only defense was considerably less than thrilled. The data collecting I could stand, but the insects? Not my greatest source of joy. Otherwise I was intrigued about the process, observing flora in a park that had not even been opened to the public yet, the still-developing Freshkills Park.
With some research, I found that it was not a natural, preserved park, but rather one more so constructed than anything. Freshkills Park is built on top of a now-defunct landfill, sprouting with life native and non-native to the area. I am familiar with this practice of construction, as my previous high school track and field area was also built on top of a small landfill, complete with topsoil and turf. Of course, it is not the best area for play, nor does the grass grow vey well there. When we arrived at Freshkills and I was assigned to a group studying all kinds of vascular land plants, I wondered how it was possible to create an entire flourishing park this way when my former school district couldn’t even manage to keep the grass from browning during the soccer season.
To my surprise, while the other groups set off to wade in lakes, trek paths, and get stuck in mud, our group stayed very close to the entrance of the park. In my eyes, I saw nothing very interesting at first. It seemed to me that we were looking at a bunch of trees and what I would consider “regular plants”: very plain, not much more to them than leaf, stem, and root. Luckily, one of our guides, a passionate Louisiana transplant, had an abundance of terminology and facts that I would have never considered using to classify plants. He showed us the textures of the undersides of leaves, how leaves bunched together in twos and threes, and the distinct scents of certain crushed plants. He didn’t hesitate to physically rip large plants right from the earth to show us the sap that flowed from the stems when punctured. We learned about medicinal properties of certain plants growing right there in the park that were not at all protected, funnily enough, but were hanging on for dear life by the edge of the main path. He mentioned a plant whose leaves contained a substance used in heart medication, and showed us another whose stem contained a substance that acted similar to aspirin, this property discovered by early American settlers who chewed on the stems to clean their teeth. Our guide opted not to demonstrate personally, to our disappointment.
As a result of my limited background in biology, I went to Freshkills that Saturday with a clear mind and few expectations. Although our actual journey was limited by the park’s construction, I acquired a lot of information within a short span of time and an even shorter distance. A basic knowledge of biology did not prepare me for the minutiae of plant classification. The intricacies of plant life are truly amazing, with new discoveries making even the most up-to-date anthologies practically obsolete in a matter of months. I grasped a sense of the practicality and order of nature as well, reflecting on how every part of the plant, from root to the shape of the leaves to the look of the stem, does its part in the life of the plant and the continuation of the species. Freshkills Park stands, more than a human achievement of creating an artificial ecosystem, as a reminder that nature is resistant to our meddling, clever in its design and near perfect in its execution. It would be truly perfect if there were no ticks, but one step at a time is good enough.
