by Denny Olson

“The Nature of Cities”

In 1900, 14 percent of the U.S. population lived in cities. Now, more than 70 percent (240 million) of the U.S. population live in urban and urbanizing areas (U.S. Census Bureau 2021). Improving the sustainability and livability of cities is a long-term challenge that many cities are beginning to consider, but only beginning. This is probably a familiar case of “you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone”. I grew up in a town of perhaps 550 people, surrounded by woods, lakes, rivers, and other tiny towns. I’m a rural kid. I lived in cities during college, grad school and a few subsequent years, but urbanity is far from my strong suit. Since those times, I have always tried to live in a place where I have quick access to relatively wild natural places. I live in Kalispell, a town of under 40,000 citizens or so, in a valley inhabited by about 110,000 humans, surrounded by five National Forests, eight State Forests, at least half a dozen National Wilderness Areas, a Tribal National Bison Range and a million acres of Glacier National Park. My choice of domicile wasn’t an accident. When it comes to imagining life as a committed big city dweller, I’m clearly over my head. 

But I do worry about the insular effects of living in any city, which can create the illusion of human self-sufficiency regarding food, water, shelter, and space. The support system, the life support system, of cities comes from outside the city, from that natural world of deep dark scary woods, quadrillions of insects, birds that poop on your car, frightening predators – the out-of-control, out-of-the-comfort-zone world. Cities are completely at the mercy of photosynthesis, the water cycle, climate, weather, and rural agriculture, and subject to the same life support system of rural areas. 

The human tendency to wait until the last minute to save wild places that many people traditionally think are “going to waste”, is often exacerbated by a simple lack of awareness about the importance of nature to humans. Urban forests and marshes reduce ambient temperatures up to six degrees Celsius in the summer. Trees are filters reducing the amount of air pollution and enhancing water quality. They offer wildlife habitat and corridors for larger and more mobile animals. They are buffers for damaging storms. They offer pathways, staging areas and refuge for migrating birds. Urban wetlands reduce rainwater runoff with vegetation, act as sponges for natural water treatment, reduce the effects of flooding and erosion, and reconnect floodplains with rivers. They also get people outside, establishing and reinforcing their connections to nature and each other, and generally making them healthier, happier, and smarter. They are preventative mental and physical healthcare. The return on investment for urban wilds is a no-brainer. 

It is never too late to save a wild area, because, without a lot of effort, the holy economic grail of growth will continue to shrink it into oblivion. As of late, we also have the dubious distinction of being the fastest growing “micropolitan area” in the United States. But, concurrent to that distinction, we now have a permanently protected (by conservation easement) 405-acre river bottom natural area, Owen Sowerwine, managed with a very light hand by Flathead Audubon Society. It regularly hosts deer, grizzly bears (!), black bears, cougars, and eagles. This area is adjacent to the city limits and is walking distance from my house in the middle of town.  The diversity found there is less due to the size of the area, and more due to the connecting corridors of forest and other river-bottom land, much of which is protected by a geographic daisy-chain of other conservation easements. 

These areas are important for humans because they are important for many other species as well. With care to minimize disturbances, urban natural areas can serve as educational instruments, teaching visitors how they can help be stewards of these important public assets. 

Estrangement from our natural roots in cities is unacceptable, on so many levels. The proximity to “green space” and its relationship to health is only a good start. Our community-based education system needs to find a way to include our whole “community” (read: including our natural life-support system). Our children need to know who they are in the bigger picture of our food, potable water, habitat, and space, biological essentials for life. There will undoubtedly be many creative ways to finance and facilitate these experiences once we decide it is important. From my own groundings in a life of abundant nature, I’ve come to believe that the truth and realities about our relationship with our natural world is the most important thing that I can teach.