- Eco+tone: Eco+tones are zones of encounter. The prefix eco, from oikos, speaks of home: the place we inhabit, the watershed that holds us, the landscapes (human and more-than-human) that sustain life. Tones, by contrast, signal tensions: pain points, frictions, dissonances, but also cracks through which new possibilities can emerge. Tone also refers to the general character of atmosphere or attitude of a place, piece of writing, situation. (NSU circle 5 – see also Learning to Ecotone )
- Eco+thanatology – to be seen – the keyword in our upcoming online symposium (deadline for proposals of contributions is until and including September 15th, midnight)
A problem in my oikos, home, my tiny eco
When I was in Norway, my neighbour, who keeps an eye on my tiny house, saw something.
She sent me a message:
“I’ve collected your vegetable box again.”
“I just popped inside to put some vegetables in the fridge…”
“I saw there was some water on your kitchen floor. I took photos and sent them on to the area manager.”
Diagnosis: Clogged Pores
Not long after, the area manager got in touch to ask if the branch of the Sky Tree hanging over my roof could be pruned.
“The drain was blocked, and that branch is causing problems for the roof. It’s certainly a contributing cause of the leak. In principle it should never leak, but if the water can’t drain away in time, that is a problem.
The tree drops an enormous amount of debris onto my roof. If the water can’t drain away quickly enough, real problems arise, especially since the upper roof drains onto it.
Heide wrote, in an earlier blogpost related to eco+thanatology, about unclogging. That is exactly what I am watching unfold here: this living being and becoming that is my tiny house, clogged by the green debris of the tree above it.
An ecotone
It is a real ecotone story.
I have to look to the entanglements and interactions between more beings and becomings. That tree is often mentioned in my diary, which I keep for my postdoc since April, and I was not surprised that this clogging happened as a result of my lack of caring. I knew for some weeks, perhaps already from the moment I got my key of my tiny house in the end of April, that I had to reserve more time to look into this entanglement of tree – rain water – pipe – flat roof. I had planned it for next spring (as I felt I had more urgent matters to fix, such as lightning, the protecting the walls, getting a stairs to enter the house, getting a floor… and wanted some weeks of laziness), but it seems the tree forces me to take a look in the coming weeks. Autumn is coming…
A tree will have to lose a limb, so my tiny house does not rot.
A friend, who followed the story and who is involved in our circle about transformative learning practices with/in the more than home world, remarked: “Interesting case study, I see the conflict of interests. How do you negotiate with the tree in this situation? I feel this is a wonderful situation for change to begin, because real action is needed rather than the usual theorising of possibilities. What a gift!”
Yes… and that is why I am writing this short piece, and noting it down too in my diary on multispecies interactions, tensions, and the work of care. Writing this helps me to process this ecotone and understand this new labor practice from a bigger scope.
An eco-thanatology
It seems the tree’s limb will have to go. That particular limb also frightened me during a thunderstorm this summer. Another neighbor who is a gardener came by and removed some branches, before I arrived home.
A few days ago, I read somewhere that humans often project feelings onto trees, and that losing a limb means something quite different for a tree than it does for a human.
Then we arrive at ecothanatology …
Which limbs do we, trees, humans, societies, have to give up, to protect exactly what?
It seems that the tree has to give up a limb so that my tiny house and I can continue to live here for a few more years. Then we will have to move, and the tree can take up space again… unless other humans come and decide to kill it altogether.
However, a branch can be cut, but there will be more leafs falling soon.
When I arrived home, my neighbor visited me and explained me that I am now in a relationship with the trees and will have to climb the roof every few weeks to remove all what the tree let die… in order to avoid the unclogging of the drainpipes, the pores, of my tiny house.
It seems I have to buy some boots and a ladder for some new caring practice in my next years living together with this house and the trees providing me shadow.
From macro to micro and back
Theories are made for policies and grand designs, but they are also lived out in everyday encounters and choices.
If you would like to explore how ecotones might inform eco+thanatology of your own (tiny) house (micro-level) or of bigger institutions (macro-level), this is your moment: join us for our online Eco+thanatology symposium on the weekend of 12–13 December. The call for proposals closes on 15 September at midnight (just days away) so if you have a contribution or a blogpost brewing, don’t let it stay theoretical. Send it in, and come think it through with us together.
You can find more information here.
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