Wanderings

I'm just finishing the book "The Man who Walked Through Time" by Colin Fletcher, which is an account of Fletcher's early 1960's walk through the length of the Grand Canyon.It is a beautiful and soul stirring retelling of Fletcher's months-long solo journey through a remote Grand Canyon that no longer exists.

Although a great read, what strikes me as I added this book to my personal library, is that I often choose to read and own books about such solitary wanderings. I seem drawn to the true stories of people who seek out a solitary existence for a length of time. I own and have read (usually more than once) "Walden" by Thoreau, "The Outermost House" by Henry Beston, "A Sand County Almanac" by Aldo Leopold and "A Pilgrim At Tinker Creek" by Annie Dillard. In addition to all being extremely well written and based on nature observations, they all celebrate, in one way or another, the wonders of solitary existence among the beauties of nature.

Why do these themes resonate with me? I was born in the city and reside in a suburb. Is there some yearning on my part to engage in such an activity? Is it perhaps symbolic of some deeper longing? Is it a desire to "escape" or be free? I don't know about my inner motivations, but I do know that these stories provide me with hours of enjoyment, a vicarious form of travel, and perhaps a glimpse into my future.

I think therefore....

Look to this space in the near future for my brief thoughts on such mundane things as nature, food, travel, education and lifestyle. But also look for more serious postings on philosophy, religion, art, cinema and the meaning of life. It's not partisan, but will talk of politics. It's not denominational, but will talk of religion. I'm not a scientist, but will talk about science. This will contain the musings of a seeker, but not necessarily a finder. Other seekers wanted.

"Not all who wander are lost"