Ecojustice in My Community

Week 2 - Cobbs Hill, Rochester, NY 

3/23/2024

 5:00 pm - 7:00 pm 

Chilly but warming up with many muddy areas. 

5:00: To begin, I would like to inform you about a situation that the city of Rochester is currently dealing with. A few days ago, a body was found in the reservoir of Hyland Park, and it had been there for 25 days before being discovered. Initially, I planned to walk around that area, but after receiving that news, I decided to visit the adjacent reservoir. I am reflecting on this situation because I am taking part in my polluted walk today.  Arriving at the reservoir, I plan to walk to the abandoned water towers that once held the Rochester water supply but now stand as a relic and a wall for artists to paint layers of masterpieces. 

5:15: This area feels more stressed. With the thrum of the city only a mile away and the security of the functioning reservoir, there is so much more movement here. The ground and branches are littered with garbage, and the trees are painted with random lines and garbage. There is a definitive lack of songbird melodies in the air, and with a lack of serenity in this space, it is no surprise. 

5:30: As I continue walking, I can see the attempt to encourage some birds back into the area, but the sheer population of this park is a deterrent that many birds would find unwanted. Down a steep hill, I can see some kind of facility, though I can't make out its purpose. Finally, I make it to the trailhead to hike to the water towers. There is graffiti everywhere, much of it depicting crass nature. 

5:45: The water towers are a sight to behold. Though visible through the trees, you can't truly appreciate how much art has been layered onto them until you are closer. Two water towers sit idle side by side. About five years ago, someone broke down the bottom doors, and now people can enter and paint the interiors and exteriors. Traversing around the Wtertowers, I look for art inspired by the natural world, and while many pieces are created by juvenile teens seeking the rush of rule-breaking, some masterpieces are exhibited on these walls.  

6:00: The ground around the towers is littered with paint spills, broken glass and empty spray paint bottles. 

6:15: It is the beginning of the golden hour, and although the ground is littered with garbage around the towers, and the sounds of traffic have grown through rush hour, the birds are beginning to make their last flights before the night. While the songbirds still elude this place, I hear geese returning from their long voyage, seagulls squawking overhead, and a murder of crows bullies a red-tailed hawk who is ready to embark on its last hunt of the night. I am beginning to find peace as the sound of I-90 drifts into white noise; I am aware of the nature that sits just beyond the tower trail. A wooded area that backs up into a neighborhood provides solace for more nature to thrive. Although still lightly littered with pollution, I can feel myself slowing down to admire everything reborn in the golden glow of evening. 

6:45: With warmer weather, fungi and mushrooms have begun to emerge! The mycelium in hibernation, broken by the melting snow, brings these strange and alien beauties back into the world. Moss is also illuminated in my favorite color: deep, rich green. The deep green instills a sense of calm, the promise that spring is coming. The decaying wood is full of vibrant, warm colors, too. 

Reflection

Cobbs Hill Reservoir and Park hold so much regarding the history of Rochester, but the health of the park could be better when it comes to keeping it clean. The ground is littered with empty bottles and paint scraps, while the trees are marked with aerosols. No songbird habitate to create a cacophony of melodies. Instead, the brassy caws of cars and crows echo through the space. Due to the location, less than a mile from the thrum of busy city life, many critters and birds prefer a calmer scene with less noise and physical pollution. As evident from the recent news of a deceased person being found in the reservoir adjacent, this area is not always the safest and leads many to treat it as grounds for littering. Although this park is not the cleanest or safest, it is essential to recognize how it benefits many. Squirrels use the wooded areas as a sanctuary; many larger birds and scavengers find solace in the high branches, able to keep a watchful eye for roadkill. And for the people who see a place to walk in nature, this place is a refuge for city children who sled here in the winter, teens to walk and vent to friends, runners who can traverse the trails and marvel at the art around the towers, and the elderly who may stroll around the canal and then sit and view the city skyline from a cozy park bench. There is much room for improvement, but there is also much to say about this space that exists in the first place. 

The View from Down Here

Rusted and rotted, I lay crumpled on the ground, litter and trash is what I hear on the sighs of the wind. Once, I held bright orange pigment and compressed air- a teenager's first broken law. I remember the giggles and joy I brought to the group of kids that popped my seal open for the first time, pressing an unsure finger down onto my nozzle; the fumes released left the air smelling metallic and sharp. Whatever they painted then has been long since covered, with layers of new art from professionals practicing and amateurs alike. Now, I lay eroding away into the earth. Each winter makes another layer of rust, and each rainfall chips a little more off. Bugs and small critters skitter over my shell as I rot for a hundred years here. One day someone may pick me up to be tossed into a landfill where the same thing will happen with a different view. Five hundred years from now I will be returned to the earth.