Today, I sit and write from the place that fostered my childhood.  Today, I sit and I listen to the songs of the forest, allowing their insight to seep into my conscience. I close my eyes and fill my mind with the crisp clean air, the air that works like a drug to calm my thoughts and soothe my emotions. I sit and embrace the breeze, letting my body become one with the environment that surrounds it. Today, I sit and I do not speak, but instead, I remember. For a short moment, I attempt to remember how it felt to be young, innocent and enveloped in nature. Because here in this spot, I know that that that feeling will never occur again. For today, my heart is heavy with grief as I sit cross-legged in the path of an asphalt road.

My childhood was one filled with worn-in footpaths, tadpoles, trillium, and vernal pools; all placed in the setting of the nearby New England forests. As one that never fully enjoyed the company of others quite like a venture into the woods, I never took this land for granted. These forests served as my escape, time and time again. An escape from social, emotional, physical, and mental hardships, these woodlands were a liberation from my life in general. Even as a young child, there was one area in particular that held an utmost importance in my soul, an area that I fondly and aptly referred to as, “my tree”. An emotional and physical fort constructed by a stout pine and a slender birch, my tree was a hideaway for my seemingly overcomplicated 9-year old life. From inside the tree, I would sit. For a few moments, I would cease to exist as a human and merely become a component of nature. The tree grounded me and was my constant reminder that all the little things would resolve themselves. My tree gave me a powerful perspective until that perspective was radically shifted. The construction of the development that would soon be built over this tree would be an immense threat to the environment, especially the wetlands around it.

It began with a stake. A stake with a hideously fluorescent orange tag, a stake that held more power than my entire persona could fathom. To an outside observer, it was just a stake, but I knew better. Anger, heartbreak, dismay, and countless other emotions spread from my heart outward, numbing my body as my head spun. This stake was a kind of gravestone, a cold granite symbol for the death of my long-time safe haven. And soon enough, the trees in this area including MY tree were blindly cleared by an employee of the Clemons Springs development program. But it wouldn’t just be my tree that would be cleared. It would be an area of over 75 acres that would be mindlessly cleared in a short period of nine months (Kuhl). An area that previously contained incredibly important wetlands.  But now, it would just become another overpriced and undesirable development claiming the vitality of New England forests.

Of course, the initial intent of this development created an incredibly negative perception in my young and impressionable mind. However, the destruction of my so-called “safe place” was not just detrimental to my own wellbeing, but for the environment that once surrounded this area. Rapidly, my favorite components of nature merely became memories. The soundtrack of the forest; of birds, rustling leaves, and chirping insects, was soon replaced by the roaring of chippers, loggers and other tree harvesting equipment. The crisp scent of the air seemed to be permanently tinted with the smell of diesel, and a large black cloud of smoke was constantly suspended in the sky. Aside from these minor obstacles, one main issue arose from the construction of this road. The destruction of local wetlands. Wetlands are one of the most precious and valuable biomes in the entire globe, but yet, “Some estimates state that over 50% of the wetlands in the United States have been lost since European settlement”(Zimmerman). In fact, from 1990 to 2010, Connecticut alone experienced a net loss of 352 acres of wetlands and wetlands alone. And of course, like the beloved vernal pools present near my backyard, “Most of the forested wetland loss to upland was attributed to residential development,”(Tiner 5). But why do we care? Why should the general population -who did not lose a tree that had significant sentimental value- care about the degradation of wetlands across America? Well, the answer to this question can actually be explained in money, an easily comprehable unit for most Americans these days. I know, hard to fathom, but the conservation of these wetlands could have actually posed more economic benefits than the four out of eleven lots that were eventually sold on Clemons Springs.  These economic benefits can be dubbed as “ecosystem services” which is simply defined as “Benefits people obtain from ecosystems (often shown as an amount of money)”(Biodiversity a-z). So, in the terms of ecosystem services, wetlands do a lot more than one may initially think. Wetlands purify water, release oxygen, absorb carbon dioxide, produce nitrates, provide habitats for endemic species, pose as a buffer for flood control, and perform countless other deeds that humans would be doomed without. And the price shows this level of importance, “The Millennium Ecosystem Assessment gave wetlands a value of US$15 trillion in 1997,”(Li). Sure, we aren’t talking about all of the wetlands across America, we are only talking about a few acres at most. However, the value is still the same. The value is still the same, the services are the same and one other main component is still the same. Wetlands are disappearing at an alarming rate, and it actually matters.

So, maybe now you know how much a tree fort meant to me, and how wetlands actually might influence your life. But still, there is something bigger. This something might not happen now, or later or even ever, but if it does, it could be life-changing. Not life-changing for you, or your family, but for hundreds of thousands of organisms in this something. The thing is, is that wetlands can’t advocate for themselves, and as seen by my anecdote, nor can some of the people who truly care about them. As far-fetched as it may seem, if you are ever caught between wetlands and humans, or any kind of nature and humans, please remember to approach the issue as a selfless human, looking for a compromise between all aspects of life. This perspective has not only the potential to save animals lives, but to save our own. As humans, once we learn to respect and coexist with nature, we have also triumphed our most tremendous battle.