Untaming the wild

Cape Tribulation, despite its name, is a jewel – there is no other way to describe it. I had the privilege of being there recently.

Named so by 18^th-century British explorer James Cook because his ship struck a nearby reef, the cape is three hours’ drive north of Cairns in far-north Queensland. It’s a blissful place, with emerald-coloured rainforest spilling down from a backdrop of the Great Dividing Range onto a beach that looks out to the Coral Sea. The tropical forest is intensely, fiercely alive in a way that surprises and beguiles a person from the temperate south. Giant fan palms and strangler fig trees, coiling vines and ferns of all description compete in a dense profusion of life. There are the bizarre “meowing” calls of the cat bird and the hooping sound of the wompoo pigeon, and on the forest floor the scratching of brush turkeys and scuttling of goannas. It’s a bewitching, magical place and quite different from any other I have been to in Australia.  

A friend of mine was at Cape Tribulation 30 years ago. Then, she says, there was but a rough dirt road and a small number of hippies living in huts. Now, the sealed road allows a steady stream of tourists up to the cape. Cabins, hostels and bed-and-breakfasts are strung along the way, mostly tucked into the forest in “eco-tourist” fashion. Some of the nearby land has been cleared for farming and horticulture.

Beyond the consumption of “sights” and activities that is tourism, I suspect many people come to a place like Cape Tribulation to commune with nature. Though perhaps not conscious of it, they want to speak to the environment and to receive its words in whatever fashion. It’s an acknowledgement and opening to mystery and to forms of communication beyond those of the ordinary human world. Even if all you do is lie on a beach for a week and read a book, that beach somehow makes its way into you; it speaks to you; its rhythm and vibration meet yours.

We seek out nature to get in touch with our true self, our soul. Outside the well-trodden paths of the human world we meet not just our own life in depth, but the very Ground of Being. The jaggedness of our ego is somehow smoothed as it begins to find its proper place in the great scheme of Life. Perhaps we experience ourselves as in nature, not outside it. 

The difficulty, nowadays, is that humans are spreading in greater numbers across all parts of the globe and wiping out non-human nature. And as places like Cape Tribulation are cornered in national parks, cut by roads and swelled with tourists, communion with nature becomes harder. What is destroyed cannot return. In order to save nature humans have to retreat somewhat, to reign in and ultimately decrease the human population, to stop building roads, dams, mines and other major incursions into the natural world. And much more money and resources need to go to saving species and ecosystems – a global Marshall Plan devoted to nature preservation. 

The heart of the matter, though, is not one of harnessing human willpower to save nature. It requires a change in human consciousness. As many ecologically minded thinkers and activists have been saying for some time, we have to see ourselves as part of nature, not separate from it. That entails behaviour that is light on the planet, that values locality and simplicity, and that is fundamentally about relationship and connection. 

Crucially, we need to rediscover nature in ourselves and in our immediate environment. For all our faults, we are one of the expressions of life on this living planet and our actions need to be in accord with this reality. In the city, we can bring non-human nature back through the planting of native trees and shrubs wherever possible, digging up bitumen car parks and empty land. We can also cultivate food in this way and keep animals. An urban green revival has already started, with examples including community gardens and revegetation groups, green roofs and rooftop hives for beekeeping. The movement, however, is still in its infancy and has a long way to go.

Perhaps, over time, something of the communion with nature that we experience at a place like Cape Tribulation could be felt just where we are – wherever we are. Many people who garden in their backyards develop an intuitive sense of nature, as well as joy and balance, from direct connection with the earth. The more we get in touch with nature, the more we are in touch with ourselves. Then, perhaps, with spiritual development and refinement we would not need to escape so much to national parks and other wilderness for inner nourishment. The distinction between the “wild” and “domestic” will be less relevant as all life is experienced as sacred.