The isolation of men from the natural world is a great tragedy. Alongside Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump and his egregious supporters it is among the great tragedies in the world.
So I was delighted to read fellow WTE writer Edith Cook’s recent column here about her voyage into the wonders of Big Bend National Park.
I first went to Big Bend in 1972. I taught my kids to backpack there. I ran the river there. I learned to be quiet there.
Big Bend is on the Mexican border, about 250 miles or so southeast of El Paso, Texas. Its southern border is the Rio Grande River (the Rio Bravo, if you live in Mexico), 107 miles of it.
It is part of the Chihuahuan Desert complex. That means it has more birds than you can count. More mammals, large and small, and cold-blooded reptiles and bugs than you can count. And depending on rainfall and the time of year, more flowers and blooms than you thought could exist in one place.