Boundaries

(photo of the top of Yosemite Falls)

We all have boundaries that we don’t want to cross, whether they are emotional, physical, or mental, because we get comfortable where we are.

Taking risks and crossing physical boundaries isn’t a problem for me. Late one October, I traveled to Yosemite anticipating a week of dry, cool, but sunny weather. Perfect for hiking through the glories of fall. One morning I came out of my tent to find that winter had moved in and the mountains around me had turned white. I went on a hike to the top of Yosemite Falls because I wanted to see what this looked like.

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On the switchbacks going up the canyon wall, snow begins to appear at the 6000-foot elevation. It gets deeper the higher I go, making the upward hike slippery and a little dicey.

Land Prophets

This month, as April encourages us to linger outdoors and play, we honor the death of Rachel Carson on the 14^th, remember the birth of John Muir on the 21^st and celebrate Earth Day on the 22^nd.

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The Land Prophets dedicate their lives to showing others how to do less damage to the land. They confront people in politics and businesses who exploit the land only to make money, who listen to special interest groups rather than the everyday people they represent, and who betray the public trust as trustees of the land. These are some of our prophets.

In California, John Muir saw sheep destroying the wilderness meadows of the Sierra Nevada and worked to get them removed. In the process, he helped create the Sierra Club and the National Park system that has saved large tracts of wilderness areas. He also wanted to save Hetch Hetchy, but the politicians in San Francisco sold nature out for votes.

December Evening

This evening in December is quiet, and the hills and fields are shaded in the sky’s pastel colors. Light has traveled beyond the earth’s edge and shadows will soon darken and lengthen into night. Nature begins to settle down into the blues and grays of winter.

I stand on my deck and listen to the woods — the creaking of the trees in the light wind, the light clack of empty black sunflower shells landing on each other, dropped by wrens and finches at the feeder. My thoughts move among the trees as I halfway watch the squirrels chase each other. Dusk fills the woods with shadows and I open to the mystery of what is here.