You know Frank wants to go to Montana and Yellowstone more than anything. I’d love to go too, to see the wild side of American, those rugged mountains so unlike the ancient curves of the Appalachians. Winter! Oh, Lord, you don’t want my whiny self around in the winter . . . remember how I carried on at Vermont during the winter residencies? Southerners have thin blood! Those ghost towns, though. Very tempting!

Jeannine, Hannah Hinchman is your kind of gal. She lives out West and has written and illustrated a book about trips into the Rockies with her dog. She’s done another book on illustrated nature journals, too. I have huge admiration for these women who just climb mountains and canoe in dark swamps to find out what’s there, not so much to find who they are. Which was missing from Cheryl Strayed’s *Wild,* I think.

The sadness is seasonal–it will leave in a few weeks. Meanwhile, I have geese and spiders. Those things we all have.

I’ll keep reading, whatever shape it takes! 🙂 e

and I’m sorry about the weight of sadness. Though I love your image above about the geese, the turns of things.

Yes, Elizabeth!

Lifetime of Learning! I’m stealing that, Miss Donna! I’m not ready to lay down across the railroad tracks yet, but I do feel the weight of years and losses, as I do at the end of every year. It’s in my nature to live in the past–sometimes good for my work, but not always.

I stopped in the middle of my run today to watch a string of geese, to see them change leaders, an effortless shift among community members, no egos involved, teamwork for the good of the species. A small lesson learned.

Points well taken! I *am* reassessing, but my version of being a naturalist/artist/writer seems very tame. The armchair naturalist, that’s me. I wish I had taken more risks when I was younger and could afford to.

I would love to keep an illustrated nature journal, but I write one page and quit. I’d be happy to keep a journal illustrated with photos, but you will see in Part II of this post how hard that is with limited skills.

I have been thinking about changing the “format” of this blog for some time. Less about nature or me or life. But I can’t think of anything else to write . . . and I will keep blogging anyway.

It’s true, we can’t let our kids go off into the wilderness, but these days, most don’t even go out in their yard, much less exploring.

We have a gaggle of kids in our cul-de-sac. They play outside, at least, but it’s always in the cul-de-sac, usually on wheels of some sort. Or organized ball games. Nothing *creative.* No discoveries.

There’s a wonderful article in this month’s Orion magazine (I realize you wouldn’t get it in Australia) about free-range kids. Because today’s kids aren’t like us, they will have to be pushed out the door! But with other kids and grown-ups.

As for me and the canoe, I had palpitations the one time I got in a kayak, two feet from the dock.

As for the “shackles of habit,” this is only a problem if our habits are unhealthy or unwise. A great weight of sadness is only one perspective . . . an alternate view would be a lifetime of learning.