Natural Processes:

Natural Processes:
Massachusetts Avenue and Main Street

People cannot simply create cities. They may help shape them by pushing in one direction or another. They may be able to move land and raise it out of water, but they need a place to start and a reason to continue. Larger forces play a role in the development of human communities than the beings themselves. Original landforms profoundly impact the location of settlements and their movement, and the native climate and wildlife do not simply disappear when humans appear -- at least not quickly or willingly. This development is a continuous process, a compromise between human and natural preferences -- perhaps an unfair one, but a compromise nonetheless. Cambridge Port was not exempt from this reality. It is truly at an intersection, not just of streets but also of land and water and of human construction and natural processes.


Original Landscape

Despite its original name, what was once Cambridge Port does not appear to have developed as a stereotypical port. While it was situated along the banks of Little Cove, just off of the Charles River, those banks were swampy and anything but ideal for transportation and shipping like those of Boston or for military protection like those of East Cambridge. Rather, the land around the cove decided the settlement’s location, at the point most convenient to West Cambridge and Boston. Designed as an extension of the West Boston Bridge, Main Street hugged the banks of the river as closely as possible while still remaining on land. Its Front Street ran perpendicular to the water and was not lined with wharves or docks. In fact, only a short time after the intersection was established, the Union Railroad blocked any direct access to the Charles River when it was build across the swampy river banks. The most distinguishing feature of this site – the one that lent itself to be used as an intersection between existing communities -- was that it was on dry land.

Boston, and its Environs [map]. Circa 1800. Scale not given. Archiving Early America. <http://earlyamerica.com/earlyamerica/maps/bostonmap/bostonmap.jpeg> (March 2004).		Boston, its environs and harbour, with the rebels works raised against that town in 1775, from the observations of Lieut. Page of His Majesty's Corps of Engineers, and from those of other gentlemen. [map]. 1775. Scale not given. American Memory. <http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/map_item.pl> (March 2004).

How far removed this area was from the surrounding swamps is not readily obvious, however. The Boston area is a large basin, created by earthquakes and shaped by a massive glacier (Spirn 14). When “the land of the basin sank, […] the sea flooded the valleys,” but left the hills and drumlins that the glacier had formed (14). While the corner of land defined by the curve of the Charles River was not a drumlin, early maps of Boston show that it rose distinctly above the water and swamp levels into a hill or plateau (Boston, and its Environs). Sometimes its base appears closer to the Charles River than others, suggesting that Cambridge Port perhaps rested partially on it and not in the swamp.

Not only would such elevated placement have been logical at the time (protecting this important road and later street car route from flooding), but its position is also evident today. The path from Central Square to Harvard Square along Massachusetts Avenue is distinctly downhill. Central Square is situated slightly higher than Lafayette Square, where Main Street intersects Massachusetts Avenue, so it too must have shared this higher elevation. However, the other side of the original landform is better hidden within an artificial mold. In 1858, when Boston began filling its surrounding bays in order to support a growing population and demand for land (Spirn 18), its northern neighbors soon reshaped their shorelines as well. Cambridge Port filled the river past the Union Railroad and, except for a constructed slope down to the water’s edge, effectively covered or reconstructed the original shoreline’s shape. Although now disguised, the hill did exist and guaranteed that Cambridge Port was the most natural connection between Boston and West Cambridge.



Cambridge [map]. Produced by the Metropolitan Planning Council GIS Lab. 1995.

Air Flow and Pollutants

The streets themselves no longer simply link two communities, but their air as well. Boston’s proximity to the water makes it particularly susceptible to winds, so much so that it “rivals Chicago for the title ‘Windy City’”(Spirn 28). Main Street, a wide, building-lined stretch helps channel the eastern winds off of the water and direct them into the center of Cambridge. Unfortunately, they do not come alone, but carry industrial air pollutants and car exhaust as well. Massachusetts Avenue, its width, and its buildings corral the northern and southern air flow with equally impressive power. Yet even though the two currents intersect at a shallow angle, they do not necessarily flow into one another. Instead, where these winds collide, they slow into “swirling masses of stationary air which trap and concentrate pollutants, rather than dispersing and diluting them” (51). So this area is not simply a street intersection but also an intersection for pollution from the heavy traffic on Massachusetts Avenue and the industries surrounding Main Street.

These two major streets are subjected to the harshest, most direct currents, but the flow of air and airborne pollutants is not so limited. Smaller streets and parking lots break up the wall of buildings on the northern side of Main Street, whereas the longer block and taller buildings on the southern side constrict the air’s movement. To the north, on Bishop Allen Drive is a triangular plot almost identical to and probably planned by the same group as the “pitiful park” in Central Square that Anne Whiston Spirn describes in her book, The Granite Garden (58). Although this intersection is not as busy, it is almost as unhealthy a location as Central Square. Positioning it on the other side of the street would have been worse, however. The wind that flows over the large industrial buildings to the south, notably the Tootsie Roll Industries, Inc. factory, picks up whatever waste particles come out of their giant smoke stakes and drops them onto State Street, creating a polluted “street canyon” from which they have little chance of escaping (56). Whether from neglect or air patterns, debris collects along the sides and allies of this street. Its only regular traffic consists of trucks, but their drivers contribute to the problem by idling their engines for extended periods of time while they load or unload. The best evidence for the unseen air pollution is olfactory. While the air actually smells like candy sometimes even blocks away from the Tootsie Roll Industries, Inc. factory, the artificial sweetness is probably not the factory’s only contribution. Channeled by these long, straight streets, the air from Harvard Square and eastern Boston connect the area and people around Central Square even more fundamentally than the streets themselves could have.


State Street from Mass Ave

Vegetation

These directed gusts of wind and concentrations of pollutants have as much of an effect on the city’s wildlife as on its human inhabitants. Nothing can survive on Massachusetts Avenue. The one section between State Street and Main Street boasts two trees, one dead and the second recently transplanted. Although “the average lifetime of a street tree planted today may be only ten years” (Spirn 171), the future of the newer tree will very likely be even more grim. With little sunlight, less soil, and drenched, heavily packed soil, it does not have much of a chance. The street trees on Main Street are hardly fairing better, but they are alive. One curves away from the high traffic street at its base, but its branches reach back towards it, seeking light. Even the evergreen bushes in planters outside of La Groceria are not well situated. The one on the left is directly beneath the edge of an awning where it is subjected to such increased rainfall that its roots are probably downing.
Similar limitations restrict the growth of trees on lesser streets as well. The trees along Windsor Street are slowly dying, but, in contrast, they seem to have established themselves fairly well and even broken through the pavement in some places. The street is not as wide, so they may have been able to take advantage of the open, grassy area on the other side. They are also on the eastern side of the buildings and are not blocked by a tall complex. However, the street does not have suitable drainage, certainly nothing capable of handling a pile of melting snow, and their roots must be rotting like those of the unfortunately positioned potted shrub. In addition, the city must have overlooked their proximity to the telephone poles or not expected them to last as long as they have. While the birds do not seem to mind this mess, if they tangle themselves much more, even the living ones will have to be cut back. And that could prove to be too much of a blow to their delicate existence.

The few street trees that seem to be thriving are situated in the more residential areas where a space has been cleared for a parking lot or left vacant for someone’s back yard. The difference is much more than noticeable; it is really quite impressive. But these are rare. In the compromise struck between the street trees and man along these high-traffic areas, the street trees are not winning.


street tree by open parking lot		birds, trees, and power lines on Windsor Street


However, in nature’s struggle against man’s negligence, at least in these few blocks, there are at least two types of plants that are not just surviving, but thriving. The first is ivy, which benefits from the wire fences that separate every yard and the fact that it is accepted and useful. If provides a barrier between neighbors and a creative way to cover a blank wall. The other plant can most easily be described as a survivor. The tree-of-heaven (Ailanthus altissima) “gives up in strength, longevity, and elegance what it gains in fast growth and hardiness. It is a messy tree with coarse silhouette and vile-smelling male flowers” (Spirn 182). And it must be difficult to kill. It grows along every fence line and every building, particularly beside parking lots where sunlight is available, but it is not especially discerning. They weave in and out of (and encompass, if no other option is viable) fences if snowplows push them in the way; they grow together into one enormous tree or sideways if necessary; and they demonstrate all of these configurations multiple times within only a few blocks. The tree-of-heaven provides the truest example of nature’s relationship with the city. The natural processes may be disturbed, but they will not be tamed, nor will they disappear.






Clement G. Morgan and Pine Street Parks

Even parks are not exempt from this struggle, because for many of them, the outward appearance of a natural space is not enough to make it a reality. The neighborhood on this corner claims two of Cambridge’s city parks, Clement G. Morgan Park and Pine Street Park. They are adjacent and form an L-shape of open space between Columbia and Pine. The land is gently sloped, with the highest corner at the southwest bend. Perhaps this shape gradually developed as the winds across the open ends of the park moved soil toward the one shared corner. In support of this theory, snow does pile higher in this one corner, and a row of evergreen trees was planted across one of the legs of the L, ostensibly to prevent such winds. Curiously, even though the park has been open for over ten years, many of its trees, including the one on top of the small hill, are no taller than the ones that line the streets. Anne Whiston Spirn argues that “density of city soils is one of the primary reasons for the demise of trees in city parks and streets” (105). This probably explains the youthful appearance of the Clement G. Morgan Park. In 1950, the area was a gas station and motorcycle dealership, so not only was the soil beneath it well packed, but it was probably also liberally coated with gasoline and oils. The hill in the park hides the exact spot where the pump had stood just decades earlier. This fact probably had more of an effect on the shape of the land than any recent gusty breezes did.

Public Parks and Playgrounds: Cambridge, MA [map]. Community Development Department. January 2004.

When human influence hides beneath what should be or what could be natural, like the Clement G. Morgan and Pine Street Parks, the effect is not artificial. Rather, it is simply a different kind of natural: the result of an interaction between what is human and what is not. The ability to affect natural processes is a strong one, but it cannot compete with the forces themselves. People should not depend too heavily upon the resilience of the natural environment in the face of their demands. Where would they be without the tree-of-heaven? If it can no longer survive, nothing can.


Spirn, Anne Whiston. The Granite Garden: Urban Nature and Human Design. Basic Books. 1984.



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