Next time you visit a national park, flee the crowds (such as these at Shenandoah) to enjoy the sounds of nature/Kurt Repanshek file
Op-Ed | Urban-Proximate National Parks Aren’t Serving Their Purpose. Here’s Why.
By Iman Blackwell
We are ruining urban national parks. The reason, simply put, is our chatter.
As a freshman at Georgetown University, I took a weekend trip about a 20-minute drive northwest to Great Falls National Park in Fairfax County, Virginia, to escape the busy culture that so often permeates campus and the greater Washington, D.C. area. Born and raised in Arkansas, I expected nothing less than pristine water, gargantuan bluffs, and meditative natural sounds that I have become so accustomed to in “The Natural State.”
After meandering through the River Trail of Great Falls while admiring the valley of tranquil water below, I came across the perfect spot along the bank for me to think to myself, only for dozens of people to rob my moment with their cacophonous conversations.
National parks should be a space to reflect, recuperate, and recharge, especially for urban residents who are more deprived of exposure to natural environments than their rural counterparts. Whether from park maintenance, transportation, or visitors’ conversations, noise pollution, which is typically louder in parks adjacent to cities, inhibits the immersive experience that national parks can provide. In fact, researchers from the National Park Service and Colorado State University in Fort Collins concluded that man-made noise “doubled background noise levels in [63 percent] of protected areas” across the United States in 2017.
Noise pollution is not just obnoxious to visitors who wish to capitalize on the full national park experience, as surveys by the National Park Service support; “it can also undo the benefits of spending time in nature, like improved mood and memory retention,” states Ula Chrobak from Science Magazine.
The National Park Service generally protects urban-proximate national parks from the clamor of city construction, but the high density of people is still a major contributor to human-produced sounds. The National Park Service regulates the noise levels of mechanical and electric vehicles such as snowmobiles and boats, yet does not monitor vocal noise pollution, leaving urban national parks more prone to loud human activities.
Many city-dwellers use national parks as a place for physical exercise and social get-togethers, which can stimulate unnecessary noises that interrupt the natural ambiance of the space. Even transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau, who introduced the first arguments in support of land preservation for all people, claimed in Walden that walking through nature “has nothing to in it akin to taking exercise, as it is called, as the sick take medicine at stated hours -- as the swinging of dumb-bells or chairs; but it itself the enterprise and adventure of the day.”
To exercise, you can go to the gym. To gossip, you can have dinner with friends. Only the wilderness can provide a quiet and natural space for contemplation.
Park-goers should respect that the overarching purpose of nature is to detach from the pressures of society. Thus, hyper-engagement in conversations about societal responsibilities is counterproductive and an obstruction to nature’s purpose. This idea dates back to over a century ago when Thoreau wrote, “I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits unless I spend four hours a day at least, and it is commonly more than that, sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements.”
Nature, in its purest form, should be used to ponder apart from anyone and any obligation.
To reduce the high levels of verbal noise pollution in urban-proximate national parks, visitors should adopt an immersive approach to experiencing nature. As Thoreau states, “What business have I in the woods, if I am thinking of something out of the woods?”
By eliminating conversations about work deadlines and relationship issues that are better fit for your local coffee shop, wander amongst national parks without a definitive goal. Take the time to reflect on your thoughts and be present in the environment.
As a frequent explorer of Arkansas’s national parks, I can affirm that an immersive approach to nature without intrusive and loud voices is overall more beneficial to the mind and spirit. To illustrate, I recently visited Buffalo National River in Ponca, Arkansas. The landscape was strikingly similar to what I witnessed at Great Falls: massive cliffs and clear, gently-flowing water.
The difference lies in sounds. Great Falls was dominated by human voices muddled together, masking any sort of natural tranquility. Buffalo River was brimming with the sublime audio of birds chirping, water streaming, and lack of human voices. I left the latter park with a clearer conscience and a more invigorated mood.
The problem is not urban-proximate national parks themselves, it is our interactions within the parks. Whether or not you will get the most out of your visit is dependent on you. I encourage visitors to leave all superficial conversations and mundane obligations at the park entrance.
Iman Blackwell is a freshman at the Georgetown Walsh School of Foreign Service.
Comments
In every National Park I have been to, 37 so far, a thirty minute walk off the beaten paths can get you away from the crowd and find the solitude you crave. All it takes is the will and a bit of effort and planning.
Wholeheartedly agree with Robert Washburn.
Mr. Washburn's comment above does strike home. I would also note to the author that while moments of peaceful serenity are enjoyable, it is not the totality of the parks experience. We must also consider the excited (and noisy) family of five out on a nature walk, two friends catching up during a treasured exercise routine that gets them out of doors for an hour in an otherwise inside-based workday, or those who would much rather have conversation and enjoy a beautiful place.
Let's remember that line from the Organic Act of 1872 which helped start the idea of the National Parks, "For the Betterment and Enjoyment of the People." Let'em talk, and take find the less trodden paths or more remote areas for the solitude that you, I, and many others enjoy.
I agree with the above comments. Parks are meant for the enjoyment of all, whether its quiet solitude, catching up with friends, or even just taking in the shared experience. Urban pareks are not the big wide open spaces most people think of when ' national park' comes to mind, but they are just as valuable. and , as always, there can always be more parks/monuments set aside.
Great Falls is just a small bead on the string of Chesapeake and Ohio Canal National Historic Park. The purpose of that park is the history of one of the first great transportation and infrastructure projects in the US. It doesn't have quiet or natural sounds as part of it's mission, and given that part of the park is only about 2 miles across, even without visitors it wouldn't have the extreme silence of Great Basin or parts of some other western parks.
I think profound silence is an important value in some parks, and there's plenty of research on our physiological responses to silence vs background sounds we don't even notice. I think very loud sounds like modified motorcycles should be kept out of almost all parks. But urban parks provide a wonderful escape and outdoor experience for city dwellers, and can do so without impariring their value for future generations. In this case I'm whatever the opposites of "get off of my lawn" and "ok, boomer" are.
The national park system and the service that administers it have thankfully expanded and evolved over the last 100+ years. The first parks were set aside in large part for bragging rights: so America could boast that our natural resources were on par with, or even more splendid than, Europe's ancient civilizations and manmade cathedrals. Today there are national park sites dedicated to interpreting and protecting places, spaces, events, resourses, individuals, groups, and ideas. Into this complexity is woven ideals of both access and preservation. I'd argue that without one you struggle to have the other.
Our nation's wilderness areas exist to provide protected solitude, but these places are out of reach of many people just by their nature: expansive, remote, gorgeously wild, and in some ways, intimidating. And access to them is in many ways a privilege that few can afford. Buth national parks, particularly those located in the midst of urban centers, should provide ALL people, regardless of socioeconomic, cultural, and physical status, to be enriched, inspired, taught, and reminded. A city park without the movement and sound of people is a space; a national park site without visitors is an idea. With people? It becomes a tapped resource.
I think it is good to be conscious of the room that our movements, deeds, and sounds take up so that those around us can also enjoy public spaces. Many people of all ages could be more thoughtful about their use of smartphones, for example. But we also need to respect the differences in how each person connects with and experiences nature and our national parks' resources. So I am thankful for the laughter of children, the chatter of families, and the playful antics of friends, particularly when they occur in places that are cooperatively owned by all Americans. It is in these shared experiences that the wisdom and beauty of America's best idea come to fruition.