Megan Geers-The Damn Rain

On the regular, I usually enjoy walking in the rain and dancing around outside. Just feeling the mud sqiush between my toes and slapping my wet hair across my face as I move. I feel totally connected to everything and at the same time free and uninhibited, unafraid of being judged by anyone. But this Friday I was so looking forward to going to Halloscream at Busch Gardens and getting the crap scared out of me. The stupid, wonderful, freeing rain prevented me from it though. The park closed at eight o clock because there was no one there. The campus was completely covered with water, flooded. This made me think about how we underestimate nature, we can't control it. In more ways than one, it controls us. It's scary to think that nature decided my plans of getting scared out of my mind were unfit for this friday night. So I just stayed in with my guests and watch a horror flick, damning my favorite part of nature for being my enemy that night.

Megan Geers- Lane's expericences in the mountains

In Lane's book he tells a story about how he went up in the mountains with his wife and felt so moved by the splendour around him that when he was in a nearby forest that same day he felt like he should give something back to the trees i.e. nature in general. He said blessings then ran around the entire forest touching every tree in sight, with his excitement. I can imagine the connection he must have been feeling especially with the baby trees because when your a grandfather the parenting gene is sort of built in. I'm sure he would wish the same kind of happy tree-life for these baby saplings as he would wish to provide a wonderful life for all of his children and grandchildren. It was kind of touching, really, to read about such a bond.

Megan Geers- Lane's book

I think the wilderness works to mask us from it's holiness. Mostly every wilderness in the U.S. that I've seen has looked exactly the same and yet there is a different aura to every part. In Alaska, there are many mountains and trees and waterfalls...I remember riding on a mountain road in alaska and almost hanging off the side of it as we drove along. It was beautiful and scary at the same time, so according to our book I guess it would be sublime. When we got out to take pictures, I tried to wander and there was an almost instant feeling of power among the nature there. It was not very holy as much as it was mysterious, something extraordinary had happened there although it looked like an ordinary mountain wilderness. For about half an hour I felt like I had jumped into a book.

Chanco: My Holy Place Erika Sikon

We have had many discussions in class about what makes a place sacred. My sacred place is Camp Chanco on the James. I get that indescribable spiritual presence when I am there. I love that place so much. It is an Episcopal Church camp located in Surry Virginia. I went there as a child with my church for family weekend ever labor day. I went there for summer camp for 7 years and at the age of 16 I worked there as a counselor. Camp Chanco has been in my family for years. My mom and aunt when there when they were little and my Grandfather helped create it and work on the board. Besides the fact that it is a holy place because it is an Episcopal Church camp, it is more than that. The Diocese holds many of their youth events at Chanco. I have been there for many Church youth events in past years and have grown in my spirituality and spiritual knowledge of the place. I have a picture that I believe shows “God” in the clouds during a Eucharist. I have felt closer to God there than ANY church I ever been too. You learn to appreciate nature, even the big scary wolf spiders when you are there. You make memories and friendships that you know could only be God sent. Chanco is a magical and holy place in my eyes. You can see more stars that you have ever seen. You can sit on the “beach” and listen to the water. You can be at the “bluff” and look out and see an eagle flying over the James River. My love for Chanco is indescribable as well as the spirit I feel when I am there.

Related to Myth Erika Sikon

Throughout our class discussions we have mentioned the word myth. "He insists that "the dissolution of the Myth as explained is the necessary way to the restoration of the myth as symbol""(23). "This is because, in the most basic sense, myth that is understood is no longer myth" (24). Besides speaking of "myth" and even some of the Gods in the class; a concept found both in the text of Landscapes of The Sacred and my mythology book, Classical Mythology is the word chthonic. We spent some time in class talking about it and I was amused when I saw the word in my mythology reading. We talked about the word protaining to the dead and the ground. My mythology book explains it with better context,"... the performance of "impossible" feats, an encounter with chthonic powers (often an actual trip to the Underworld), and a quest for immortality (302). Sometimes you learn things in one class that will become helpful in another and they do not even have to be related subjects!

Exprience in Nature Today - Martin Konkel

As I previously mentioned, the Noland trail is someplace that I frequent often. Today the weather was exceptionally beautiful and I had a lot of studying ahead of me in hopes of doing well on our midterm. So I packed up my Jeep and drove to the little park that resides along the Noland Trail. I park my Jeep CJ7 near the tree line, climb into the back, and start hitting the books. Even though Newport News is somewhat of a miserable city, this area seems to be an Oasis from the misery of the city. It's isolated, quite, and just a great place to sit back for a few hours and study. The birds were out today playing in the tree behind me and chirping away and there was a nice slight breeze that would rustle the just-turning fall foliage. I'm going over my notes, doing the essays, studying the four Axioms of sacred place, and then I experienced something I have never witnessed before.

Up pulls an older Chevy pickup and a new Chevy HHR. A guy in the truck, a gal in the car, both middle aged. I'm sitting slouched down in the back of my Jeep and somewhat mentally numb from the few hours of studying. They park next to each other and the man quickly jumps into the car with the woman. Alright, so maybe they're friends meeting after work, two people going over business, etc. Well, they started to get down to business alright. They were all over each other, making out, and after awhile I think they realized the big orange Jeep sitting 20ft in front of them had someone in it, but at this point I doubted they cared. Then I saw her head disappear underneath the dashboard....... I'll leave the rest up to your imagination here.

After 30mins of this, and me trying the best to stay focused on the readings of Lane, they start up the HHR and she moves to the other side of the truck, thus blocking my view of all but the top of their car. Now, I'm young, I know young people do such things, but this at 3pm in the middle of a park and these people were by far not young. I get back to my business while they're making theirs until a Mariner's Museum Security vehicle pulls up. The guard stays in his vehicle for a few minutes then gets out and walks up to the HHR. At this point any notion of me studying has gone out the window and my attention is fully tuned to what might be very awkward situation for a few horny middle-aged idiots.

The guard asks them to roll down the window and prominently states he does not like what he sees here. The man quickly assures the guard that nothing is going on, but the guard again restates that the windows are fogged, something about clothes, and that this isn't a back yard and they need to cut it out. He walks away and the man hatefully yells "I'm just saying!!!" obviously pissed over what you could call being cock blocked.

I'm cracking up at this point, hell; I wish I had a video camera. Eventually the guard leaves and the couple pull the car around, get out, and walk 50ft back into the woods and start making out passionately. At this point I was going to go for a walk to clear my mind from all the studying, but I was afraid the old hornball was pissed at my presence and would slash my expensive all terrain tires on my Jeep, so instead I packed up and headed back home.



Alright, so I wasn't really in the wilderness, nor did I have some religious like when Lane felt the earth growing underneath him and he went around and blessed all the trees. I was in the back of my old Jeep listening to the calming sound of the small forest surronding me trying to study when all of a sudden I experienced something I soon won't forget. Kind of one in the same, just totally opposite.

Martin Konkel - I like the wilderness

First off, in all honestly I'm not sure I am going about posting this right, but I need to start posting some of these blogs soon. So, please bear with me if this shows up in the wrong place or some other mishap.


I have always liked the wilderness. Unfortunately I've been born and raised in this awful city of Newport News. I hate the development, the congestion, all the people, etc. However, half of my family lives in West Virginia and I have always considered that to be a second home. We own a good lot of land up there too and I always look forward to getting up there when we can. Besides the fact that small town people and life are just more friendly and relaxing, there is certain quietness once you leave civilization. Our family land is off a one-lane dirt road and runs along the Greenbrier River. As a kid I always loved playing in the local swimming hole and hiking through the nearby woods. As I have grown up I have come to a new appreciation for that place. First off, being out in nowhere, you can pretty much do almost anything you want. Every time me and my friend would journey up there we would load up our firearms and take them out to our load. There we shoot for hours, and sometimes when my uncle is home we'll sit on his back porch and he'll bring out his collection of various antique firearms; some dating back to the 1800's. One that I will always remember was a replica civil war rifle that was over 5ft long and shot a solid lead shot of about .68 caliber or so. The round destroyed about everything we could hit with it, and the boom the rifle made echoed off the surrounding mountains like that of an old civil war cannon.

Even though I am stuck in this city for now, I still try to make the best of it. I have spent many hours on the Noland trail and it is perhaps my favorite spot to just sit down and study for an upcoming test. I also love taking my Jeep CJ7 into the "wilderness", be it a stretch of beach or some trail that runs through the woods. No real roads, just me and my machine taking me where I desire to go. I like to get out and away; I appreciate the wilderness, nature, and all that goes with it.



I am not a city slicker that prefers to sit inside wasting away all day. Yet, I am still finding our readings to be somewhat of a hassle, and honestly, downright pointless. I appreciate nature, I love the wilderness, but it doesn't talk back to me nor do I find it sacred, religious, or magical. It is trees, a running river, some rocks, and all of the little critters that lurk around. When I read Lanes book I think of him as some kind of kook. I can tell he is passionate, but there is being passionate then there is craziness. Someone who is passionate about the environment might volunteer to help clean up a local strip of beach. But then there are these idiots that run around with signs screaming how the evil Bush corporation machine is destroying the world and somehow all these smelly hippies waving signs in the air think they are going to solve the world's problems by doing this. That’s a kook, a crazy, a absolute idiot. I can relate to cleaning up a beach; I love the beach and hate litter. But the latter example, will, that just makes me want to slap some sense into someone.


Perhaps if what I was reading didn't seem to be taken to such a extreme I could understand it, relate, and maybe even find it enjoyable. However, since every paragraph Lane seems to try to prove his literary genius and fills it with gushing nonsense I.... well, I just don't like it nor get it.... sorry.

Elizabeth Watkins - Relating to Lane

I've been frustrated this semester with Lane's book. After reading chapters one and two, I felt like I was only relating to the material 50% of the time. The language in the book was hard to follow, and the overall message had such heavy meaning that you really have to committ to the reading completely. However, beginning with the second essay assignment (reading interactively), I began to see that it is easy to understand what Lane is saying if you can find a way to relate to it. In other words, you need to try to find an example in your life or something you are familiar with to really understand Lane's thoughts. Upon reading further into the book, I can now say that understanding Lane is getting easier. I get more involved when I can really understand what he is saying. For example, on page 68 he makes reference to Pablo Picasso's Les Demoiselles d'Avignon and the power of the masks that Picasso obsessed over. I can completely understand what Lane is talking about. Last semester in my art history class we studied this work in great detail in our discussion class. We studied the primitive feel and aggression of the masks and how Picasso incorportated such things into this work. Because I can picture Picasso's image in my mind, I can understand what Lane means when he says the masks try to "invest the viewer with its iconic power". Hopefully as I read Lane further making connections to my own experiences will become less forced and more routine for me. For now, I am trying hard to really understand Lane's message.

Megan Geers: Campus Drum Circle

Wow, on sep. 20th there was a Campus drum circle hosted by the pagan and earth-based spirituality club. It was the first time I had ever been to one of these before, but it was great. Just a bunch of chairs around a small camp fire with enough room for people to dance around the fire. My friend is the one who convinced me to go because she's really into all the pagan stuff. The energy upon entering the circle was thick in a good way. The drums beating in unison eventually began to somehow symbolize our heartbeats. The fire seemed to call to me, I danced three times that night. I was bouncing with energy after each time around the fire. Eventually there was chanting and singing to go along with the drums, all fit together so well creating a sense of community among strangers. Now I can't wait to go to the big Drum circle in Norfolk and see if the sense of community can translate to larger crowds.