Before answering the first question, I'm going to be a jerk and go into semantics:
"The non-human world" -being a human and engaging in the environment makes at least that specific part of the environment very much human. Even if I were alone and there were no other humans in sight, humans would still have a significant effect on that environment and my experience. The fact that that area is considered "non-human" by some is a direct result of human interaction. Why was one area specifically set aside for conservation and not others? In Second Nature, Michael Pollan points out that most "natural areas" today are not how they had been before European colonization or even before the Indians arrived for that matter. As a result it is very difficult to encounter parts of the earth that would be considered "non-human," and, once encountered, they would cease to remain in that state.
Engagement, also, implies action and/or interaction. A passive engagement is not really an option. Many environmental theorists would probably agree that our relationship with the environment cannot be (and is not) passive. This goes back to biology -each organism plays an equally important role in the environment and and every decision has effects on the surrounding area (whether intentional or not). But active and passive are also very subjective words, since we have active listening, engaging the senses. This appears to be a one-way interaction--nature impresses us and wows our senses, but we (ideally) don't return the favor. Does this then constitute an engagement? If not, since we have to interact with nature, what is the best way for us to return the favor? We could reflect how nature interacts with us and have a passive relationship. But could we?
Regardless, it's still awesome to think of my engagements with the non-human world -and important as well. Reflecting on it makes us appreciate it more and reminds us what we're destroying/preserving with our decisions. For me, being at a high point and looking down on nature is the best because it reminds me of the vastness of nature. Micro is equally important but for me it's (slightly) easier for me to fathom the evolution/composition of a singular organism before the vastness of nature. The specific engagement that comes to mind is looking on Machu Picchu from Machu Picchu mountain which towers a good 600 meters above the ruins. Having hiked there, my body and soul were very appreciative of the view and I was able to get a more personal interaction with the environment--looking at the mountain does not give you the same impression that climbing for hours upon asthmatic hours does. At an elevation of 10,009 feet, I could see the folds of the surrounding land, covered in rainforest. The mountains looked like wrinkles in a dark green velvet cloth that blanketed the jungles eastern Peru. I had similar, less heart-warming experience as I looked out the window of the plane as we passed over Miami (the seemingly endless grids of human consumption); nature got in our way, so we shoved it aside. When you look from above you see things, key results of our actions, that are too often missed.
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As for part II I feel like the phrase "saving nature" is pejorative and a poor representation of the situation. Nature is not a child who needs to be saved from the deep end of a swimming pool. Nature is very capable of swimming and adapting to new situations. Our actions have brought nature to its current situation and it is our actions that we must save. This may be an anthropocentric approach, however I feel that treating nature like a baby and not emphasizing the destructiveness of our decisions will hinder us from real environmental progress.
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