Mother Natures’ Lesser Half

I wrote this while I was still living in Milwaukee. I feel beyond fortune to live within driving distance of this gorgeous vista taken just last week from Glacier Point in Yosemite National Park.  Hope you enjoy this tongue-in-cheek essay about National Parks, which are near and dear to my heart.

In planning this year’s summer vacation it has come squarely to my attention that there are serious inequities in this country.  I’m not speaking of gender bias, racial discrimination or the widening economic and social gaps between the rich and poor.  Yes, these are deeply troubling, but a simple glance at a U.S. map will reveal injustices of far greater latitude and longitude.

It seems as though certain states have been inordinately blessed with the riches of nature, while others lag far behind like the ugly duckling stepsister, wobbling Quasimodo-like through life, trying to get by on personality alone.  From sea to shining sea, Mother Nature’s partiality and favoritism is sorely evident.

According to Wikipedia (the source for all knowledge) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_national_parks_of_the_United_States there are 59 national parks in the United States.  But shockingly, only twenty-seven states and two U.S. territories share in this fruit of plenty.  Simple arithmetic would seem to dictate that one park be assigned to each state, and, with nine left over, divide them equally among the territories (Puerto Rico has no National Parks!) Among the twenty-five have-not states, given the cold shoulder by Mother Nature, many must make do with inferior millenniums-after-the-fact attempts to rectify these gross disparities, through man-made consolation prizes in the form of national military parks, battlefields, historic sites and monuments.

For example, Connecticut, along with a half dozen other states, shares the Appalachian National Scenic Trail and also shares a National Heritage Corridor (whatever that is) with Massachusetts.  But, unfortunate Connecticut can claim only one place of pilgrimage of its own:  the Weir Farm, a National Historic Site designated in 1990 for one of America’s earliest impressionist painters who summered there in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.  But is the farm of a dead artist really supposed to keep Connecticut happy in comparison to say, the Grand Canyon, or the mystical vision of the granite face of California’s Half Dome?

Then again, perhaps Johnny-come-lately Connecticut should count itself fortunate compared to Delaware, the only state in the union that has absolutely nothing!  Delaware is no doubt extraordinarily embarrassed, as it should be.  On the other hand, everyone knows that Mother Nature created Delaware as the perfect location for businesses to incorporate.  Too much beauty and splendor or history in that state, and the next thing you know the stock market is taking a nose-dive. But even among the halves, some must make do with tiny slices of the pie of National Park glory.  Should we begrudge Idaho their small sliver of Yellowstone, America’s first national park, when that state must share it with Montana and Wyoming?  This hardly seems fair given that Montana has splendorous Glacier National Park all to itself and Wyoming shares its magnificent Grand Teton National Park with no one.

But exactly what kind of behind the scenes pork barrel politicking went on when Mother Nature decided that California would get nine national parks, Alaska eight, and Utah five, while Illinois must be satisfied with an odd historic trail or two and the Lincoln Home National Historic Site, and only then because of an accident of birth? Likewise, can Kansas in America’s heartland truly be contented with its amber waves of grain and its Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve when it knows deep down inside that this could never come close to National Park material?

I ask you, is this fair? What was Mother Nature thinking?

New York no doubt feels fortunate to have its gorgeous Fire Island National Seashore, as does my home state Wisconsin with our Apostle Islands National Lakeshore on Lake Superior. And yet, I can’t help but feel a certain sense of inferiority since for reasons unknown, these shores weren’t quite good enough to achieve National Park status.

Don’t cry for us California and Alaska.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  I’ve decided to forego this year’s summer road trip.  Instead I’m going to spend my vacation in the safety and comfort of my lovely Milwaukee backyard while I enjoy the bustling wildlife antics of the common gray squirrel and the breathtaking views of the newly built addition to my neighbor’s bungalow.