A forum for intentional words by women on wildness, wilderness and outdoor adventure.
Gratitude is a wild act. To give thanks is to validate, to participate, to close the circle: to project energy, love and light toward someone or something outside of oneself, perpetuating a gift-economy far more lucrative than profit-driven capitalism. Gratitude presupposes a belief in inter-being: the idea that humans exist not only as individuals, but as vertices …
History knows Promontory Summit, a small non-town in Utah's middle-top latitudes, as the place where, in 1869, a Golden Spike (actually several) was (were) driven to link the tracks of the Central and Union Pacific Railroads, completing the nation's first transcontintental railway. An NPS museum and visitor center mark the spot; in back, two live …
Here in New York City I'm looking harder than I've had to in other places and contexts for wildness, for ideas and conversation about biophilia and inter-being. Often I land at the Mid-Manhattan Library, where a bit of mindful browsing usually drops me into the right books, or vice versa. (I have always believed that books, wild and …
Today my husband and I lost out on a bid for a rental apartment in upper Manhattan. Here, housing is expensive, competition is fierce, and the application process is circular, Byzantine, Kafkaesque. (No offense to Kafka or the Byzantines.) I spent the day on the run: ordering checks, printing documents, making conference calls with brokers …
A hot wind cures my face as the L-train roars to a halt. It's ninety-two degrees outside and almost a hundred underground. I inhale, just once, and hold my breath, trying to keep out the saturated stink of urine, and the sort of squalor that produces bedbug pandemics and Medieval diseases. I am a new, reluctant New Yorker, …
Writing the Wild 