natural places

On a bookcase in my home office is a tiny piece of shed seal fur I spotted on a beach in New Zealand, a Douglas fir pine cone I absconded with from a forest floor in British Columbia, and a piece of shale I picked up from the rocky shores of Newfoundland. Looking at these mementos I’ve picked up on several journeys near and far reminds me of my travels; and arranged as they are in a circle, they create a “map” of sorts, a visual representation of where I’ve had the great fortune of going to in the world and the arc I traveled back home.

Like all traipsers through woods and walkers of rivers, I have a few favorite secret places. I could go on and on about their beauty, about what makes them so different from any other location on Earth, about the feelings they elicit from deep down in my core. But if I tell you, you might visit them and then bring your friends; and then they wouldn’t be my secret undisturbed refuges anymore.