New York City is quite the concrete jungle, yet on a map there are still some shades of green situated strategically among the five boroughs. The most noticeable one, Central Park, is a perfect evergreen rectangle, located smack dab in the middle of Manhattan, the most urban borough of them all. Though Central Park may arguably be considered a fine example of nature, the fact that it is manmade and sits in the midst of so much coal and grey makes its so-called natural state somewhat questionable.

Prior reading the introduction to Concrete and Clay: Reworking Nature in New York City, I would have probably laughed at the suggestion that the “naturalness” of NYC extended beyond the infamous park. But author Matthew Gandy has a very valid point of view: though the rough and artificial elements of NYC may seem far from “natural” at a glance, New York City could not have been built without raw materials from nature. In my mind it paints the image of a once large, unrefined rock being chiseled and polished to produce something else—a structure meant to serve as more than just a honed stone. But that does not mean that the finished product stops being a rock, just because it underwent a process that altered its visible appearance. Similarly, the raw, natural materials used to construct New York City as we know it do not fully shed their identification with nature just because they took a drill and hammer at the hand of man.

Yet still, it is undeniable that New York City is not purely natural. In fact, it appears as though the forces of urbanization mask its organic origins. The immense application of mankind’s knowledge and skills to nature has made it nearly unrecognizable. As Gandy points out, however, nature has not been completely flushed out of New York; instead it has been “reworked” into its rapidly evolving and technologically submersed environment, making “the transformation of the experience and perception of nature in New York City intersec[t] with a series of social, political, and economic developments.”

As discussed in class, humans have come a long way in terms of defining what is elemental. Mankind has morphed “nature” into something very complex, shaping it to accommodate modern society’s needs, wants, and perceptions. Ask a primitive being such as a caveman what he needs to live, and he’ll simply give you the basics: food, water, and shelter. Ask a 21^st Century New Yorker what he requires, and the list is ten times as long. When we got into groups during class to contemplate the question ourselves, we regarded an education, a source of heat and cooling, government, a sufficient transportation and communication system (which involved largely the use of technology), and money—among other things—as great necessities. Yet despite all the huge technological advancements accomplished by the human race, we are still dependent on nature’s basics—namely water, animals, earth, wood, and fire (plus all other natural sources of energy)—to survive. So we have devised a method of integration, one that blends together elements of the manmade metropolitan with the organic complexities of nature. Ultimately, it is difficult to answer the question of whether or not New York City can be considered “natural.” It all depends on how you look at it…the City’s multifaceted existence prevents there from being only one right answer.

As mentioned in class, community gardens are a wonderful of example of a harmonized blend of nature and urbanization. Beyond acting as aesthetically pleasing green spaces in a land of concrete and tar, they help promote sustainability by providing a place for communities to unite and cultivate fruits and vegetables in an intimate setting.