“In the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in streets or villages. In the tranquil landscape, and especially in the distant line of the horizon, man beholds somewhat as beautiful as his own nature.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
The Wild. Something I dream about..yearn for, desire. A place that is completely left untouched- or should I say undisturbed- by mankind. I think of returning to my natural instincts, skin dusty with dried mud and hair flowing freely in the wind.. how romanized this idea has become. Though once I finally reached this physical place that resides in my mind; a plane ride, a bus, and a three hour trek followed by llamas and stray puppies..I was intimidated. Clothes spilling out of my giant inanimate friend, piling layer after layer to shield my delicate warm internal organs from the unforgiving elements. Little did i know my bare skin would not see daylight for a week. I sat on the edge of the lake, rocks boring into the muscles of my butt and legs but I tried to block out those uncomfortable sensations. What is comfort anyways? If I drop the bar to nothing..then everything. Our idea of comfort here in the states has blown out of proportion. We have wedged our way into mountains, embarrassing ourselves with our massive unexcusable presence with a lining of insulating guilt.
However wedging my way into a crevasse between those sharp rocks… I was overcome by immense stillness and silence. No cars, no highways, not even trees to rustle in the wind up here at 15,000 feet in the glacial Andes of Bolivia. It made me feel like I don’t belong out here anymore. I thought to myself: I don’t know you, earth, we don’t really know each other anymore and that makes me ashamed and scared and I want to connect but I’m afraid to. This was a lake that just was. Normally in this day we consider lakes for the monetary and recreational value they provide, for the fish and the boating and the lake houses. But this lake sat here at the bottom of the jagged rock completely still and alone. Suddenly I heard the loudest whoosh sound and my heart started beating super quick and then I found myself laughing because it was a bird with long wings that flew past me and I realized I’ve never heard the sound of a birds wings against the air before. It was so powerful and cut through the air at rapid speeds. I looked around at the simple details of dried moss covered rocks and then an avalanche of rocks and snow that almost made it to the lake. I realized I never knew what moss roots looked like or how birds stare stoically towards the sky and if I don’t know these details how could I possibly say I love and belong here on this planet. It’s like forgetting the color of the one you loves eyes or the way their second toe is taller than the first. And then I suddenly felt hot tears stream down my face. “Take me back” I asked the mountains, “please take me back. I’m sorry”. As Macfarlane states : “We exist in an ongoing biodiversity crisis – but register that crisis as an ambient hum of guilt, easily faded out.” Sitting out there, feeling like big clopping monster that’s disturbing everything in its wake, how could I possibly hide from my guilt in front of these mountains?
Slowly beginning to feel accepted again, I felt the earth soften towards me and I to it and no longer felt the air as harsh and cold. In those short few days, I have an eye for that landscape and those mountains like I do my childhood home. As one of my favorite transcendentalists, Ralph Waldo Emerson, says: “To speak truly, few adult persons can see nature. most persons do not see the sun. At least they have a very superficial seeing. The sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child…His intercourse with heaven and earth, becomes part of his daily food. ” I truly saw those mountains like I did as a child padding through the bed of leaves in my backyard, inspecting leaves and building forts out of branches. With the start of this blog, and this course, I hope to continue to regain my eyes to truly see the earth, it all its pain and beauty, intellectually, scientifically, and poetically.
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