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June’s Theme is Wilderness

Our June theme is Wilderness, chosen by our Chattanooga chapter, and illustrated by Hollie Chastain.

We travel to the edges of our known world — to wander, to lose ourselves, to commune with the wilderness. Dappled light dripping in through the forest canopy, insects buzzing as feet squelch through wetlands, inhaling the hot dry air and endless skies of desert, we long for this. Some of us seek enchantment and estrangement here. Some of us call it home.

We do not exist apart or separate from the wild. In her meditation on trees, poet Grace Paley writes, “we are like any greengrowing machinery / riding the daylight route / into darkness.” The wilderness lives within all of us, the rhythms of our bodies tethering us to the natural world.

What is the wilderness that calls you home? Where do you go to wander? How do you honor what is wild and unruly inside of you?

We asked you to share stories, images, and other artifacts that speak to what “wilderness” means to you. Your submissions brimmed over with passion and beauty. Here’s what you shared:

🏔 Meditations on Wilderness

Bev Laing - Greg Boldiston

Our local forest guide Greg Boldiston is a stonemason and horticulturist who spends nights walking in the forest taking detailed photos of the tiny wilderness of fungi and mushrooms. His photos are arresting, luminous, sometimes seem to glow with electric light. Greg’s a quiet, unassuming expert who shares his knowledge freely and inspires people to see the wild beneath the trees. - Bev Laing

MariaLouceiro_Douro - Maria Louceiro Photo by Maria Louceiro

The song “Wildflower” by Sarah Kroger embodies the feeling of being in a spiritual wilderness. - Ariana Pintor

I love the idea that the wilderness can become a place of enlightenment and safety. A poem on the wilderness:

It wasn’t ready–
For the eyes and ears
To witness it
And bear witness
About it,
Against my own
Intuitive spirit
And will:
Driving me into
The wilderness
Though I didn’t
Know it yet.

It wasn’t ready
For the words
Of strangers
To testify,
Against and for,
Courtroom yells
And curtains drawn
Against my face
My identity
And will:
Driving me into
The wilderness
Though I didn’t
Know it yet.


Perhaps,

I wasn’t ready–
To hear and abide
By someone else’s
Testimony,
Louder than my
Voice then,
A whisper
Of what it is
Now:
Driving me into
The wilderness
I recognize
The entryway:

The signs
Of welcome
And worth
And tables set
To feast,
While the
Outliers in me
Starve
My identity
And will:
Safe
In the wilderness
Where I will wait.

- Katie Rose Rousei


Raven - Aaric Eisenstein

This is a Raven. I saw him recently in the West Texas desert. Driving across the plain, I was struck — almost palpably — by the utter emptiness and expanse. It well exceeded a wide vista or a far horizon; it was an almost suffocating void, a space that would cripple an agoraphobe. The early morning light created an undifferentiated glow. The road, ostensibly a landmark, disappeared into a point. But then the raven. The raven — coal-black, flying close, and croaking his presence — created an anchor, a psychological handhold to grasp. There was something here, some way to establish a reference point. It was profoundly grounding. - Aaric Eisenstein


Parkbus operates bus services from major cities to National and Provincial Parks across Canada. They are making the outdoors accessible to everyone, even those that love living in the city! - Leslie Ross

Kyla Kent

Wilderness is where time stops. The emails, the texts, the notifications, and all the responsibilities of life fade away. Instead, it’s just you and the guardian angels that tower above — the still and sturdy giants that breathe life into us every day. A reminder that growth takes time, and the terrain that lies silently ahead is only but a lesson; that you can conquer anything standing in your way, that life is a journey — a steady climb for those who are brave. It’s the sound of birds and the whispers of the wind. The feeling of sun or rain dancing on your skin. It’s the warm fire that glistens and glows, a perfect night cap to a long day’s trek. It’s reading a good book and going to bed early, only to awake at the sun’s first rays, so you can enjoy a fresh cup of coffee to start the day. The wilderness is my teacher, my safe haven, my friend. The place I come to discover peace, again and again. - Kyla Kent

Lots of great research (1, 2, 3) that shows how nature can help us, especially kids! - Guybe Slangen

wilderness - jessica zimmermann

I am a plastic artist who makes sculptures and in pandemic time this wilderness meant to me the absence of material, absence of color, and absence of ideas. - Jessica Zimmermann de Landa

Big wilderness is critical to so many species we share this planet with, yet urban wilderness provides a magic of its own for millions of people. America’s fourth national park is the urban oasis Rock Creek Park in D.C. – and its history is full of twists and turns. - Dustin Renwick

Nilufer Narayani

The wild woman has a deep love of nature, a love for the ancient mother, though possibly misunderstood, it has always been in her. When she goes into the wilderness, a part of her soul is going home.” - by Shikoba, submitted by NilĂŒfer Narayani


03-Gubns-Handtufted Rug-Tarn-by Atelier Hen-01 - Jesslyn Guntur I’ve created a hand-tufted rug called ‘Tarn’ which is inspired by the wilderness of vast natural landscapes: Tarn features a raised mountainous edge on one side, a valley and field distinguished by a perimeter line and a round cavity representing excavation by a glacier. - Jesslyn Guntur

03_manouk_Machig Labdron_Realization of the truth_Reconnection - Franziska Mattner

Inspired by the vibrant landscapes of the backcountry and shaped by my own experiences of finding adventure and grounding in nature, I use watercolors in an intuitive and wild flow to create my artworks. - Franziska Mattner

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