Coming into the BioBlitz, I had certain expectations as to what I thought would happen and what I would gain from it. This was a unique experience, one that I considered to be a once in a lifetime opportunity. After all, when would be the next time I could spend three and a half hours dedicated to a nature related event led by a knowledgeable professor in Central Park? This, I anticipated, would be a way for me to connect with nature, to truly become one with the outside elements. I would witness a part of the world that I often fail to properly appreciate, a type of neglect that I attribute to my preoccupation with technology. Separating myself from the bustling city streets would enable me to instead focus on the innate beauty and wonder of the great outdoors. And yet, I came to discover that various aspects of technology at this event stood out far more prominently than did our analysis of nature.

When our tour first began, I was excited as to what was in store for us. Our guide pointed to a paw print in the mud, an aspect of nature that I would have otherwise ignored. I started wondering about its origin: What kind of mammal had created this? What was this mammal doing here, in this particular location? My creative juices flowing, I eagerly approached the spot to gain a better view. Unfortunately, a man in our group, carrying a professional camera, prevented me from doing so because he insisted on first taking many photographs of it. I was dumbstruck; this man hindered my attempt at learning more because he deemed his pictures of the footprint to be more important.

From that moment on, I felt that the nature of our trek had changed. We were there more to document Central Park than to really appreciate it. For example, while I stared in awe at the intricate pattern of the spider web, the photographer would continuously adjust his lens to accommodate the shining sun.  His frantic insistence on documenting everything we saw impacted our group’s mood, for it caused us to be  hesitant to get involved.

There were other strong technological presences besides for the professional camera. I was surprised to discover that my peers and I had perfect cellphone reception. As a result, I heard cellphones ringing frequently, much more often than birds chirping, as our guide had promised we could detect if we hushed. The chirping from the cicadas was prominently audible, but I have already heard that particular noise in nature before. Additionally, I noticed others using Instagram and Twitter to upload pictures of animals they had just seen. While it was their way of sharing their excitement, I nonetheless felt that the technology took away from the grandeur of the moment. What bothered me even more was the fact that Macaulay did not just condone this behavior, but in fact encouraged it: they designated a hashtag for people uploading pictures and statuses to social media. Thus, when we were fortunate enough to witness a bat from a close distance, there were more people uploading a picture of it than physically looking at this rarely seen nocturnal mammal.

In hindsight, I was extremely fortunate to participate in such a unique experience. I had never before viewed Central Park as a haven for diverse wildlife; our educated guide really opened my eyes to various natural elements that I had previously taken for granted. Nonetheless, the Bio Blitz left me somewhat disheartened because it reinforced the reality of the fact that technology is taking over-so much so that it is preventing us from paying attention to the great outdoors. While the title of this class is “Science and Technology in NYC,” I expected the technology to serve more as a means of reinforcing the biology we were exposed to; instead, I felt that it often overpowered the science. I came out thinking that sometimes, it is important to appreciate nature for nature’s sake.