King of the Concrete Jungle By Ari D’Arconte
A trash can falls over in the dusk. You look out your bedroom window, and there he is, illuminated by the faint glow of street lamps. The king of the concrete jungle. Sitting there, victoriously coveting your abandoned foodstuffs, his dark mask symbolizes his mischievous and elusive nature. Of course, I am speaking of the allmighty raccoon, one of many species that has not only evaded human-caused habitat loss but thrived in the establishment of human ecosystems. As you look down at him, his beady eyes stare back at you. What does he see? All around the raccoon is a world utterly dominated by humanity. Over the past two hundred years we have reshaped the landscape and constructed environments catered only to the uses of humans. Yet the ever-adaptive raccoon survives not only on the fringes of human civilization but also in the heart of the modern cities. The natural world before human conquest was filled with life and energy of all shapes and sizes. Rivers bent, leaves fell, and animals scurried across the underbrush as they had for millennia. Occasionally, a beaver would build a majestic dam, causing the rivers to be held back and ponds to form, but otherwise, the trees, soil, and water were the masters of environmental construction. There was no singular engineer of the land forcing all the other species to adapt to or die trying. Humanity has superimposed an absurd manifestation of order onto a natural world built on chaotic destruction and rebirth. In the face of large-scale habitat destruction, many species have become critically endangered or extinct,
Art by James Marino Headwaters Magazine 13
leading scientists to characterize the Industrial Revolution and the period of human expansion as a whole as Earth’s sixth mass extinction event. Yet the raccoon faces this absurd reality head-on. What is it about the raccoon specifically that makes it so successful in cities? As omnivores, they can eat just about anything, making their diet less reliant on the survival of any one species. Raccoons also have opposable thumbs, meaning that they can get into trash cans and access food in locations that are otherwise inaccessible to most other animals. Being nocturnal creatures, raccoons are able to avoid humans during the daytime. Only when humankind returns to their concrete boxes for rest does the raccoon venture out into a world devoid of color. You escape from your thoughts and return to your concrete box, looking out the window at the raccoon. What is the expression on his face as he eats your garbage? Is he depressed? Sad? Infuriated? Happy? Maybe all and a million more, but what I see is an expression of contentment. Content with the reality he is faced with. Content with his forest being one of cement rather than bark, rigid against the calm breeze. Silent from the rustle of leaves yet screaming with the honks of horns and screeches of car breaks. Dark from the night, yet obnoxiously bright with artificial light. Devoid of the smells of pines and fruits only to be replaced with the smell of smog and industry. Even still he is content and accepting of this reality. A natural world, no, but one that nonetheless provides sufficient opportunities for the raccoon to fulfill its basic
