Along the wild washes raging virginlike through narrows, past steep walls dripping with centuries of moisture, cutting relentlessly toward arid plains, the currents of this river uncover millennia of remembrance. Once embedded in ancient seas, once boulders fallen from ridges pushing upward, once immovable masses blocking gravity’s watery inclinations, the stones bordering the river’s path pause here now as little more than shining pebbles. Their voices speak a wisdom we can only imagine. Their songs echo beyond the melodies of river, of songbirds, of hikers whistling their way to mountaintop conquests. ♨
Review of “The Healing Power of the Santuario de Chimayó: America’s Miraculous Church” by Brett Hendrickson.
Photo essay: a return to the Bighorn mountains in Wyoming for an autumn pilgrimage to the Medicine Wheel and a turning of seasons.
The inequities of our investment in food stability seem distant from the calm Ohio landscape. For now all is well on the farm, where at least a few hardworking Americans have earned their good lives.
The land is philosopher. It teaches through patient being that knowing is as futile and useless as believing. Things are, circumstances unfold and collapse, and reality persists.
National parks reveal who we are as a people, what we value, how we envision the future. We learn something of ourselves by viewing our national parklands, monuments, historical sites, battlefields, and other units of the National Park Service through the critical lens of the curious student. ♨