The Stewardship Effect
The Individual Impacts of Engaged Communities
The bigleaf maple tree I’ve live under for nearly half my life is starting to die. Arborists date this stand of 13 massive trunks at over 130 years. It is presumed to be the largest tree of its kind in the county. It shades our house most of the year, even a bit without its leaves in the winter. But to do this, its generous canopy leans over a third of the house. It’s been regularly trimmed and examined by arborists, but its lean is scary.
Before our 100 year-old “summer shack” cabin was built by San Franciscans escaping the seasonal fog, the tree was already thriving. At that time it was a noticeable cluster of light green leaves set against the dark redwoods that populated our hill. I imagine the original residents were pleased to be able to orient their screened-in porch adjacent to the tree’s privacy-granting presence. Now its massive moss-coated trunks rise like columns to frame our dining room. My partner and I have been caring for this tree for nearly a quarter of its life. Someday, when a new homeowner cuts it down, over a century of active carbon sequestering will be eradicated.
The term carbon sequestering has reached the vernacular. We now know we should be paying more attention to the carbon footprint of our everyday lives. Perplexing is the understanding of how in any measurable way an individual can contribute to the enormous task of sequestering carbon. The path towards zero-net carbon is a narrow one, and finding a personal “better” to live more virtuously by in the carbon-belching society we have created for ourselves, seems unattainable.
Most of us do not derive our daily sustenance directly from the water or the land. We don’t have the kind of access needed to contribute significantly to the methods of pulling carbon our of the air. Think kelp forest regeneration, farming perennial grains, and innovative reforestation techniques. Individually, we’re removed from interacting with large carbon stores in meaningful ways. But, carbon sequestering is just part of the carbon remedy. Carbon stewardship is needed as well.
When we make the connection between our actions and the environment’s reaction, we steward. While making day-to-day reductions in our own carbon footprint is not as easy as some popular websites promise, stewarding captured carbon can become inherent in each of us. With a fortified connection to the commons, individuals can gain the power to decide what their restored world could look like. Thoughtful interventions like re-naturing our neighborhoods imparts knowledge and builds wisdom. We can discover ways to steward our own lands and eventually influence the public domain. We can engage, we can advocate, and we can demand better. When we put carbon-saving practices into our homes, backyards, and sidewalk medians, we affect a shift in discernment within our communities that can facilitate protectionism. Stewardship creates agency. It allows communities to expect more from our governments, from industry, and from ourselves.
We steward by doing the work that sustains a cultural shift, advocating for more revered, protected, and reclaimed lands. Here’s where artists and other creative thinkers can play a practical role. Artists have a platform for transformation. They can make activism visible and memorial. A well-researched, well-intentioned, creative person dropped into the mix becomes an instigator helping us adjust perceptions, exposing sustainable consequences. Those results can be beautiful, as well. It will require imagining different pathways. It demands fortitude, and patience. Generations of patience.
When the bigleaf maple tree sheltering our house is logged someday for safety reasons, or fire protection, or because a future resident decides it creates too much shade, the wood will likely be mulched. Unless it can be harvested as lumber to build homes or furniture, its 130 years of stored carbon will be released quickly through decomposition. Sure, new plants and trees will benefit, and perhaps continuing to maintain this tree in its old age will be sufficient stewardship to cover for five to six generations of previous property owners who lived under its shade. But today, I’m going to start looking for a contractor interested in maple logs.
Published in The News Farmer’s Almanac, January 2023