living in the pacific northwest, the scale of the natural world is majestic and mysterious. basalt outcroppings line the coast and rivers, rugged evidence of the mighty tectonic shifts and volcanic forces that shaped the region. cloud-scraping forests, cloaked in a soft gray mist, loft the moist aromatics of sitka spruce and western hemlock into the chilled air. these emerald towers shelter the screech owl, peregrine falcon, and dusky vole, who disappear into the deep, darkening shadows. i linger at the riverbank, an old fly rod in hand. the rain pebbles my jacket. rushing water swirls around boulders, flinging currents to undercut the far ledges of stacked rock. the fog drifts down. i am brought to an essential stillness inside -- a sensory, elemental moment with mother nature. in the generosity of her presence, i know what we all know in our hearts.
she is worth saving.
