icon caret-left icon caret-right instagram pinterest linkedin facebook twitter goodreads question-circle facebook circle twitter circle linkedin circle instagram circle goodreads circle pinterest circle

Living and Writing in the Natural World

People, Beaches, Hawaii

(Hawaii again?! Hey, I’m here for two weeks and this is a weekly blog. Next week I’ll be back on the mainland.) After my usual morning routine (see my earlier posting) I noticed it was low tide around ten o’clock, so I tightened my teva sandals and walked “tide-pooling/beach-combing” along the base of the seawall  Read More 
1 Comments
Post a comment

A Hawaiian Interlude

Whenever the first cold, rainy days of winter hit—late October, early November where I live—I do the only sensible thing for someone not tied down by a job. I head to Hawaii. Not for long—two weeks, never more than a month. And here I am today. Now you can get outdoors and get your daily time in the natural world in the winter, for sure. But not wearing nothing more than a swimsuit and Teva sandals,  Read More 
2 Comments
Post a comment

A Summer Evening

August 1979. Heather and Holly and I rode down to the stone wall by the creek this evening, Heather on her bike with training wheels, Holly on the handlebars of my 3-speeder. They wear new swimsuits, I only my jeans. The air is warm. We walk the bikes the last couple of hundred yards, as that stretch is not paved and Heather’s back wheel dangles in midair frequently between the two training wheels—a frustrating experience not to be endured by a five-year-old.  Read More 
1 Comments
Post a comment

Huck Finn in California

As I bicycled under the arched Valley Oak trees in the park yesterday, watching the gold and russet leaves twirling to the ground, I felt like a boy on an adventure. The seasons are changing, and I was abroad navigating the changing world. The child-like sense of wonder is one of the most precious gifts we receive as we move through the natural world. Certainly John Muir was sensitive to this wonder, and nothing better illustrates this than his incredible adventures in the fall of 1877. Read More 
1 Comments
Post a comment

What Muir Knew and We've Forgotten

Sticks, hat, and 40 pounds of trouble

As my wife accompanied me on morning walks preparing me for an upcoming backpacking trip this summer, I entertained us by singing a boyhood song, heard on TV’s Lawrence Welk show (yes, I’m that old): “I love to go a-wandering, my knapsack on my back. And when I go a-wandering, this is the song I sing: fol-do-ral, fol-do-ree, fol-do–" Well, you get the idea, and maybe even know the song. During the actual trip, I had occasion to be reminded of one very crucial word of that song, much to my dismay.  Read More 

Be the first to comment

The magic of the night

First the owl—probably a great-horned—whooshing over the car in the darkness. Then an opossum on the side of the road, debating between irrigation ditch and asphalt as I bore down on him. By the time the young black-tailed jackrabbit loped across the road, I was remembering a lifetime of night-time adventures in the natural world, and the magical spells often accompanying these dark moments. Read More 
Be the first to comment

Coming of Age, for all Ages

It was billed as a “coming of age” ceremony for Kai, but it turned out to be a reminder for any age (and gender) of what it means to be a human. We gathered—the father/son hike gang, but other friends of Kai and his dad Richard as well—at the Headwaters Outdoors School (HWOS) at the base of Mt. Shasta. Think of Lothlorien, but in northern California.  Read More 
Be the first to comment

The rhythm of the autumn equinox

This past week saw one of the High Holy Days of a Taoist year or, indeed, the year of anyone attuned to the rhythms of the planet upon which we are privileged to reside. I celebrated the Autumnal Equinox by spending most of the mornings of September 21 and 22 bicycling along the Arkansas River which runs through my hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was visiting to celebrate Read More 
2 Comments
Post a comment

What the Grass Revealed

A helpful label in the grass

I had just returned from my "short spin" around the park on my mountain bike today, and it was time to do some yardwork. I cut back the summer's growth of mint in the back yard and put water on it, to encourage sweet new growth. (You have a mint patch also, don't you? How else can one have mojitos at home throughout the summer? It's one of the basic necessities of life, just like having a mountain bike for spins and a large family tent for camping. Basic.) Then mowed the backyard (with my electric mower, probably the last one in Chico, maybe on the continent). As I was gathering up the cord and admiring the elegant way it snaked through the grass, I saw something else in the grass, something Read More 

2 Comments
Post a comment

Staying connected to what matters

John Muir would escape from his writing (which he hated) in his winters in San Francisco by taking a ferry east or west to the Oakland/Berkeley hills or Mt. Tamalpais and spend the day "rambling". Upon his return he would have an armful of flowers which he distributed to eager street urchins as he took the hill to his Taylor Street room with long strides and a lightened heart.
Like Muir, we all need to take time to stay connected to the natural world, hopefully as a daily or near-daily jaunt. Four or five times a week I get on my bicycle and head for Bidwell Park in my hometown of Chico. My route depends on how much time I have. Yesterday I only had 30 or 40 minutes, so I took  Read More 
1 Comments
Post a comment