I've not read enough of Lopez's work so thanks for this essay! Also some excellent links, especially the fascinating New Yorker article about measuring sea level and the article about vultures on Anthropocene.
I envy you your introduction to Lopez's other work, Juliet. There's so much to love. And happy you liked those articles too. There's so much to choose from in the flood of information...
Another thought. Could we not say that Barry was the Bashō of our era? Both a traveler and poet of place with a profound appreciation of Time- that curious mix of transciency and eternity.
From Bashō's Oku no Hosomichi:
"The months and days are the travellers of eternity. The years that come and go are also voyagers.
Those who float away their lives on ships or who grow old leading horses are forever journeying, and their homes are wherever their travels take them.
Many of the men of old died on the road, and I too for years past have been stirred by the sight of a solitary cloud drifting with the wind to ceaseless thoughts of roaming."
We are not Lopez nor Bashō, we are not bound to their visions or philosophies. We view our world with fresh, bright eyes and weave our own travel narratives, part prose , part poetry, as we travel toward that deep north, that distant soutn, that far horizon.
I think Lopez uses far too many syllables... I like the connection, Michael. And I'm sure that Lopez would have known Bashō's work well. Thank you for articulating how beautifully they overlap.
Two things. First, thanks for the shoutout on my essay about the glacier in the crater of Mount St. Helens. Second, I agree with all you wrote about Barry Lopez. I would also add that his three collections of short stories--Winter Count, River Notes, and Desert Notes--are also wonderful reads.
Thanks, David. Happy to send people your way when I can. I really enjoyed the glacier piece. And yes, all things Barry are good... but I have to admit that I've never been drawn to his fiction like I am to his nonfiction. I respect the stories and their intentions, but gravitate to the nonfiction prose. I'm glad you mentioned them here for other readers to explore, though. I know folks who, like you, really love that work.
Jason, I think part of my love for those three little books is that they were the first books of his I read. I also liked them how they felt so real, or at least I wanted some of them to be that way. But I agree with you that his non-fiction is what continues to draw me in to reread regularly.
And I read Arctic Dreams first. From that vantage, his descriptions of the world and a good path through it felt more vital to me than stories meant to demonstrate that path. Might be a failure of imagination on my part.
Thanks, Jason, for helping to keep Barry close and relevant to the world — and to us. And extending your dad's legacy of science and numbers and management and care on behalf of the ocean ... hey, we've got you!
Thanks, Bryan. Close and relevant is exactly right. So much depth in Barry's work; it still has a lot to give. And yes, the quiet busy world of science-based management, the math of empathy, that's what Dad offered too.
Thank you for sharing his work and for the work you are doing as well. My heart aches day and night for the many direct and inadvertent harms humans continue to unleash on the earth and its creatures; for this reason, it is a tonic to read about the progress we have made and the all the hands that are coming together to help preserve the beauty and diversity of nature that remains, however fragile.
I can help a toad cross a busy road when vernal pools are calling, but can do little for the motionless fox, deer, raccoon and squirrel that don’t reach their destinations because their eyes, brains and bodies cannot process the danger they face from our fast moving cars. The I-70 in Maryland in particular seems to have cut off critical migration for many hapless beings as I see them so often on this stretch that I find myself wanting to take alternate routes when I have a need to travel on it. I keep on the lookout for organizations working on wildlife corridors, but the funds needed are so great I fear that something major will need to happen before people pay attention and open their hearts and wallets like they did in California following the death of a popular mountain lion.
There is some money available through the federal IRA bill for crossings/corridors, but not nearly enough. And another bit of hope I'm holding onto in relation to wildlife protection here in the U.S. is the near-passage in recent years of the RAWA bill - Restoring America's Wildlife Act - which, if Congress can finally agree on a funding mechanism, will be a bipartisan bill sending billions to the states annually, with no horizon, to protect non-game species. The goal is to help keep species from Endangered Species listing. States have drawn up plans to spend the money if it ever comes, but it could be a game-changer, including providing habitat protections for all sorts of threatened species that aren't well known. Might help protect wetlands that have lost federal protection because of the infuriatingly foolish SCOTUS decision in Sackett vs. EPA.
Thanks for helping those toads. We do it too. The sooner every state prioritizes replacing bad culverts and stream crossings with wise ones, the better.
Indeed, Anne, but maybe that's all the more reason to start soon. You can probably outpace my grandmother's 4 pages per day... and even if you pick away at it when you can, it will be worth your time.
Having written about it again now, I'm wondering if I should put it back on my teetering to-be-read pile too. It's been a long time now.
I've not read enough of Lopez's work so thanks for this essay! Also some excellent links, especially the fascinating New Yorker article about measuring sea level and the article about vultures on Anthropocene.
I envy you your introduction to Lopez's other work, Juliet. There's so much to love. And happy you liked those articles too. There's so much to choose from in the flood of information...
Deep beauty and deep mystery, the context of all we know in our lives. Here's to the horizon. Ever-receding even as we race toward it.
Or as Lopez writes, “Its only boundary was the horizon, the sill of the sky, separating what the eye could see from what the mind might imagine.”
Another thought. Could we not say that Barry was the Bashō of our era? Both a traveler and poet of place with a profound appreciation of Time- that curious mix of transciency and eternity.
From Bashō's Oku no Hosomichi:
"The months and days are the travellers of eternity. The years that come and go are also voyagers.
Those who float away their lives on ships or who grow old leading horses are forever journeying, and their homes are wherever their travels take them.
Many of the men of old died on the road, and I too for years past have been stirred by the sight of a solitary cloud drifting with the wind to ceaseless thoughts of roaming."
We are not Lopez nor Bashō, we are not bound to their visions or philosophies. We view our world with fresh, bright eyes and weave our own travel narratives, part prose , part poetry, as we travel toward that deep north, that distant soutn, that far horizon.
I think Lopez uses far too many syllables... I like the connection, Michael. And I'm sure that Lopez would have known Bashō's work well. Thank you for articulating how beautifully they overlap.
Two things. First, thanks for the shoutout on my essay about the glacier in the crater of Mount St. Helens. Second, I agree with all you wrote about Barry Lopez. I would also add that his three collections of short stories--Winter Count, River Notes, and Desert Notes--are also wonderful reads.
Thanks, David. Happy to send people your way when I can. I really enjoyed the glacier piece. And yes, all things Barry are good... but I have to admit that I've never been drawn to his fiction like I am to his nonfiction. I respect the stories and their intentions, but gravitate to the nonfiction prose. I'm glad you mentioned them here for other readers to explore, though. I know folks who, like you, really love that work.
Jason, I think part of my love for those three little books is that they were the first books of his I read. I also liked them how they felt so real, or at least I wanted some of them to be that way. But I agree with you that his non-fiction is what continues to draw me in to reread regularly.
And I read Arctic Dreams first. From that vantage, his descriptions of the world and a good path through it felt more vital to me than stories meant to demonstrate that path. Might be a failure of imagination on my part.
Thanks, Jason, for helping to keep Barry close and relevant to the world — and to us. And extending your dad's legacy of science and numbers and management and care on behalf of the ocean ... hey, we've got you!
Thanks, Bryan. Close and relevant is exactly right. So much depth in Barry's work; it still has a lot to give. And yes, the quiet busy world of science-based management, the math of empathy, that's what Dad offered too.
Thank you for sharing his work and for the work you are doing as well. My heart aches day and night for the many direct and inadvertent harms humans continue to unleash on the earth and its creatures; for this reason, it is a tonic to read about the progress we have made and the all the hands that are coming together to help preserve the beauty and diversity of nature that remains, however fragile.
That's nicely said. Our days are full of aches and tonic in turn. Thank you.
I can help a toad cross a busy road when vernal pools are calling, but can do little for the motionless fox, deer, raccoon and squirrel that don’t reach their destinations because their eyes, brains and bodies cannot process the danger they face from our fast moving cars. The I-70 in Maryland in particular seems to have cut off critical migration for many hapless beings as I see them so often on this stretch that I find myself wanting to take alternate routes when I have a need to travel on it. I keep on the lookout for organizations working on wildlife corridors, but the funds needed are so great I fear that something major will need to happen before people pay attention and open their hearts and wallets like they did in California following the death of a popular mountain lion.
There is some money available through the federal IRA bill for crossings/corridors, but not nearly enough. And another bit of hope I'm holding onto in relation to wildlife protection here in the U.S. is the near-passage in recent years of the RAWA bill - Restoring America's Wildlife Act - which, if Congress can finally agree on a funding mechanism, will be a bipartisan bill sending billions to the states annually, with no horizon, to protect non-game species. The goal is to help keep species from Endangered Species listing. States have drawn up plans to spend the money if it ever comes, but it could be a game-changer, including providing habitat protections for all sorts of threatened species that aren't well known. Might help protect wetlands that have lost federal protection because of the infuriatingly foolish SCOTUS decision in Sackett vs. EPA.
Thanks for helping those toads. We do it too. The sooner every state prioritizes replacing bad culverts and stream crossings with wise ones, the better.
Beautiful tribute—I’ve been meaning to read Arctic Dreams for years now but it seems to deserve a carving out of attention that is difficult to find!
Indeed, Anne, but maybe that's all the more reason to start soon. You can probably outpace my grandmother's 4 pages per day... and even if you pick away at it when you can, it will be worth your time.
Having written about it again now, I'm wondering if I should put it back on my teetering to-be-read pile too. It's been a long time now.
So true, but ditto to the teetering piles…