The Satellite
Deep in the Hill Country woodlands, red-tailed hawks circle high above the parched earth below. Patches of yellow waterless buffalo grass grow in separated tufts. A single cactus wilts, shaded by a live oak tree. Smells of cedar sap and dust waft in the crisp, dry air. Squirrels and small birds migrate from cedar to oak, in a continuous search for sustenance. The birds chirp and the trees rustle with the occasional warm gust of air. The natural sounds are interrupted at irregular intervals by a regular procession of light traffic on a nearby ranch-to-market road.
In the midst of this scenic woodland grove stands an out of commission, off white, 10 foot wide satellite dish. A large, rusting, cylindrical beam emerges from a four foot square plot of cement surrounded by thirsty soil. The pole, tinted green, rises six feet to the rusted chassis that hold the large satellite dish. The concave dish slopes gradually inward, facing the heavens above. The dish is streaked with oak pollen and dirt and at the bottom of its curve, cedar and oak foliage have slowly accumulated. At its centermost point, a rectangular steel bar runs perpendicular to the dish. On top of this white, painted bar rests the receiver of the satellite, a cylindrical cup with circumscribed, two-inch rings that directly face the dish’s center. The receiver is tuned to pick up radio waves reflected off the dish below. The receiver captures, or once did, radio waves from 5.63 gigahertz to 5.85 gigahertz, for transmission through insulated copper wire, which dangles freely. It has been unconnected for years.
The dish marks the edge of suburbia and nature. It was built by an amateur radio operator in 1991. It was placed at the edge of forty acres of untouched hill country, very near the border of Travis and Hays County. It was on the frontier of an expanding city, relaying messages from the “frontiersman” to the rest of the world. It weathered and aged as suburbia crept further and further. It paid no heed to the asphalt that was laid, the houses that were built, or the woods that gave way to lawns. It ignored the telephone poles shoved five feet into earth, the fences planted to divide plots of dirt. It didn’t notice the animals pushed back by the march of human development; the habitats destroyed or the air polluted by increased traffic. The satellite dish sat unused, watching that cancerous unrestrained tumor, the human race. Unaffected and unconcerned the satellite stood as it stands today.
The satellite dish stands still, absorbing the waves that careen through the atmosphere. It gazes at the cosmos, receiving information sent from satellites orbiting the earth at breakneck paces. It observes the heavens: the orbits of the planets, the death of stars, the constant expansion of the universe. It remains motionless as starlight from galaxies far beyond the Milky Way bounces off its patient bowl. It listens and watches; it experiences, but relays those experiences to no one. Alone in the woods it waits. As gusts push the world around it, it stands firm. Facing skyward, rooted in earth.
Hit the orange play button on the soundcloud plugin, then click the youtube video.
Inspired by Rousseau’s description of the nature of Walden, I made a video to tell the natural history of St. Stephen’s Episcopal School. In this video, I also mention the potential danger around the St.Stephen’s campus.
The first part of the video traced back to 1949, when two bishops created this school. They built several buildings around chapel. After the first few years of St. Stephen’s development, the campus was like an Eden Garden that was isolated from the crowed and boisterous of Austin city. Standing on the top of the hill, there is no building but trees and bushes. Among the natural campus lived a lot of creatures such as deer and scrawls. Some people who live near campus also would like to visit the campus to enjoy the nature.
However, due to the recent years’ financial problems, St. Stephen’s began to sell lands in order to keep the balance of its budget. The sold lands were used by their new owners to build new buildings such as apartments and stores in order to make a large amount of profit. The materialized world destroys the beautiful nature. The outside development is encroaching St. Stephen’s natural campus.
In the first part, the campus is peaceful so I choose “first rose in spring” as background music. However, in the second part of the movie which is marked by the scene of signing the contract, I set the background track as Holst’s Mars to signify the sudden change from peace to danger.
What should we do to protect the natural beauty of the St.Stehphe’s? The natural history of St. Stephen’s edifies me to protect the nature from outside materialized invasion.
