I have been thinking about us crazy naked beach apes and our relationship with nature (and Nature) lately, and it’s gotten to the point where I really ought to write some of these thoughts down before I forget them. And where better to share random thoughts than one’s public blog?

When last I touched upon this subject in my article titled Modern Nature Worship, I had, in the course of said article, concluded that every animal has a deep sense of what kind of an environment feels “right” to it, feels safe and sensible and correct to them. In short, what feels “natural” to them.

It’s a very important instinct, because it leads the animal to gravitate towards and remain in the environment to which they are evolutionarily adapted, without them needing to understand any of it consciously. From the tiniest tadpole to the mightiest bull elephant, all animals derive pleasure from being in their proper environments and feel uncomfortable in the wrong ones.

And that, of course, includes us crazy big-brained monkeys who hilariously call themselves Homo Sapiens (which, after all, just means “Like Us, But Smart”). We too have a deep down instinct that tells us what sort of environment suits us.

But this is a complex instinct, because in our adventurous and sometimes tragic history as a species, we have been forced to adapt to radically different environments, and so there are a few types of places where we feel comfortable, each corresponding to one of the stops on our way to modern civilization.

First, of course, we came down from the trees. Our most direct ancestors were forest monkeys who had come down from the trees and learned to walk in bipedal fashion. They retained the ability to climb a tree in a hurry (as to we, as any parent who has seen how alarmingly natural tree climbing is to their children can attest) but spent most of their time on the ground.

Hence, we like forests. Green spaces with lots of trees and water running through them give us a comfortable feeling of innocence, purity, and “naturalness”, and this leads to things like tree-lined streets, tree-filled parks, and one of the most treasured retreats of childhood, the treehouse. Why do the young ones like treehouses? Because being up in a tree makes them feel safe. (Not so much their mothers, who picture them falling and breaking their necks, but you can’t argue with instinct. )

Sadly, our time as a species in this real world Garden of Eden was cut short by shifts in the global climate that caused the jungles that covered our African home to retreat and become deserts that would make the Sahara look like a kindergarten sandbox. Most of the humans at the time were killed, dying in an increasingly futile search for that environment where they felt at home.

But a small, lucky group happened to wander in the right direction, namely towards the southeastern coast of Africa, where they discovered that the one place that is always moist and fertile is the sea shore. Granted, it wasn’t a whole lot like the forest primeval that was our original home, but there was plentiful shellfish, salt-water vegetation, and a comfortable climate, so the forest ape became the beach ape.

(Yes, now you all know why I keep calling us naked beach apes. Ta da!)

And as a legacy left over from those carefree days of coastal life, we still retain our love of going to the beach to relax. Something deep inside us associates the beach with a relaxed and easy life, where it doesn’t take a lot of work to get the essentials of life, and there is plenty of time to relax, swim for pleasure, play games, and just soak up the sunshine.

Hence our idea of an “island paradise”. Our instinct to go to the beach to relax is so strong, it even supports a thriving seaside holiday business in Great Britain, where the beaches are terrible. And even when were are landlocked everyone still heads for “the shore”, be it lake, river, or artificial reservoir.

It was here, on the beach, that human beings had the leisure to invent much of what would be the basis for civilization, like improved hand axes, the throwable spear, and primitive herbal medicine.

And so it was as beach apes that we, many generations later, wandered back onto what had once been their forest home, then had been life destroying desert, and was now, as the global climate cooled again, turning into the vast plains we now know as the Serengeti.

This wide open land was our third stop, but it was one extremely rough neighborhood. There were huge opportunities (like enormous animals just waiting to be felled from a safe distance by those neat thrown spears of yours) but also huge dangers from the highly evolved predators and scavengers who were already there and not too keen on newcomers except as cuisine.

So human beings had to adapt yet again. We had to lose the last of our thick fur in order to make room for a ton of sweat glands (no other creature sweats like us), so we could chase our food all over the plains and tire them out without tiring out ourselves, and develop the kind of closely coordinating group discipline needed to survive when you lack the bodily advantage of the locals.

And hence, we also like grass. Meadows. Fields. Wide open areas with green on the ground. We spend a fairly unhinged amount of money just putting grass everywhere. Why? Because it makes us feel good.

Because, to us, it feels “natural”.

Oh, and one last thing…. why do we like pictures of broken-down buildings, rusting industrial machinery, and other signs of civilization gone to seed?

Because deep inside us lurks our animal selves, who resents all the strictures and unnatural compromises of civilization, and is soothed by visions of nature trimphant.

It all makes sense when you look at it this way, doesn’t it?