In the Woods West of Westwood

Noticing how people may use a space differently is something of great interest to archaeologists. Perhaps a space is used differently over time by a society.
How we experience space
Photo by: Ahmad Kadhim via Unsplash
Maeve Slattery | Contributor

01.08.26
| Vol. 57, No. 4 | Article

Noticing how people may use a space differently is something of great interest to archaeologists. Perhaps a space is used differently over time by a society. What was once a city hall building is now a library. Maybe a space is used differently through a person’s lifespan, as a child becomes an adult. A space might have seasonal uses, or a space could be used differently for daytime and nighttime activities.

At first glance, Westwood Lake is bustling with summertime activity in July. The parking lot is full. Both beaches are covered in people, towels, lawn chairs, and sand toys. The air is filled with the sounds of splashing, laughter, shrieks of joy, guitars, an air pump inflating a raft, the smack of a volleyball, a dog barking, and the whirring of bicycle tires going by. Smells of personal barbeques and sunscreen waft on a gentle breeze.

But mere moments away, as you follow a trail that takes you on a gentle two-hour hike around the lake, all of this fades away. Approximately 10 minutes down the trail to Bethlehem Centre, a retreat centre overlooking Westwood Lake, provides a resting spot to sit, listen, and watch as people interact with nature.

The centre is an unassuming collection of small buildings with a few outdoor areas for meditation, including a labyrinth, a pond with a fountain, uncultivated woods, and a manicured lawn with benches placed at random. One of these benches is directly above the walking path and faces the lake. It is here that you notice people walking, running, and cycling by themselves, in pairs, or in small groups. Some of them talk and laugh loudly. Some talk quietly. Some are completely silent.

Someone notices you as they walk by. They give a little head nod and say “Hi,” but most people carry on with their own conversations and let you sit and observe the sensescape.

Sensescape is an archaeological term that describes everything that can be noticed by the senses—what a person sees, hears, smells, tastes, and feels. This also includes how the environment affects their body awareness and movements (vestibular and proprioception), as well as internal body sensations (interoception) like hunger, toileting cues, and emotions.

During the day, when the sun is bright, details can be seen in the trees, rippling water, kayaks, and birds flying overhead silently. Music travels from the kayaks across the water so clearly that you can understand many of the words. Airplanes and electrical tools are heard in the distance.

As the sun descends in the early evening, the light cuts through the leaves, providing flashes of light and increased shadows.

On the opposite side of the lake, the mountain tops change from green to golden. The water is overcome with a welcome shade after the scorching heat of the day.

As dusk approaches, you notice more insects flying about and find yourself swatting at mosquitoes. Playful bird songs become more noticeable. The physical energy of people seeking exercise shifts to a more relaxing mood. There are fewer bicycles. There are more people walking their dogs. People are sauntering. People take a moment to pause and look at the view before continuing on. A person in a rowboat moves locations and tosses a fishing line into the water. Another person on a boardwalk packs up their fishing tackle, pleased to show off the biggest fish they have ever caught before releasing it. The pine tree smell is less noticeable. People emerge from the Bethlehem Centre and casually loiter around the grassy area silently.

As the sun reaches the horizon at 9:23 pm, the geese start honking gently and rhythmically. Over on the beaches, people start packing up their gear and heading home for the night. The gates will not be locked until 11:00 pm, but the trail becomes empty well before that.

Now, all you can see are dark trees moving slightly in the gentle breeze, silver reflections in the water, and shadows. The geese continue their gentle honking intermittently. You hear emergency vehicle sirens in the distance. Behind you, lights are on in the main building of Bethlehem Centre. Over the course of the next hour, the lights turn off one by one until you are left with nothing but starlight and the flashlight in your hand. The darkness has arrived, and it is time to be inside before dawn summons you to new adventures.

Despite the similarities, there are also some noticeable differences between how people interact with the space during the day and at dusk. During the day, people appear to have more energy, focus, and purpose. At dusk, movements are slower and more relaxed, mirroring the soft, warm, golden light of the setting sun. There are more people walking their dogs. There are people wandering around the retreat centre. There is also more animal activity at dusk as observed by the increased presence of bird songs and flying insects.

In the darkness, sights and smells are highly reduced. There are not a lot of local sounds, and it becomes possible to hear more sounds in the distance. These observations indicate that people may come to Westwood Lake with different intentions and expectations depending on the time of day.

Someone who desires a more reflective, meditative walk is more likely to visit the trails of Westwood closer to dusk, whereas someone desiring a cardiovascular workout is more likely to visit during the day.

Beyond the written historical record or images, archaeologists are interested in the material objects and buildings that give insight into how the people lived and used those spaces. With a place like Westwood Lake, it may be difficult to find material evidence of how people are using the space today, besides observation. However, this area has been colonized for almost two hundred years and inhabited for millennia by Indigenous peoples. By consequence, evidence located under the ground—or under the water—could provide information about how people used this space in the past.

Maeve Slattery

Maeve is a fourth year honours psychology student at VIU where she is a lab coordinator for the Fear & Anxiety Research Lab and a peer-support learning leader. Off-campus, she works as an inclusive education teacher and volunteers at the Nanaimo Brain Injury Society. Prior to attending VIU, she published Celebrating the Twelve Days of Christmas (a children’s daily activity book), a stand-alone novel Grafted Together based on her experiences in Zimbabwe, as well as Guarding Damiana, the first book of a YA trilogy that desperately went on hold after she started taking psychology courses. Other projects in the vault include a children’s picture book series and a young reader’s novel series. She is planning to attend graduate studies in clinical psychology, so it looks like those writing projects will be staying in the vault for another 6 years. In the meantime, she continues to write poems, songs, and statistical analyses for research projects.

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