There’s a lot wrong these days. For me the biggest battles are environmental, and that’s where I put most of my effort. Not just attacks on public lands, but also clean air. Clean water. The wild. Worldwide. And I put what money I can into those who are fighting for it. Mostly in the courts.

Yeah I know. There is much to stand up to – the dismantling what there is of access to healthcare, income inequality, racial and ethnic inequality and the fear and hatred that drives it, the attempted power grabs and the sending of troops into American cities to try to quell dissent. All that, and more, is happening and accelerating, and resistance is growing. People are fighting on those fronts and I am grateful for that.

To my mind though if we continue to trash our home, if we continue to unravel the web of wild that holds life as we know it together, if we make this planet unlivable simply to accumulate mere money and temporary dominance, the rest of it isn’t gonna matter. All that money and power isn’t gonna buy it back.

How long can a corrupt and illegitimate government, built on the ignorance and fear and vileness of one man (and the ignorance and fear of his legions of followers and supporters) stand? How long will a house of cards stand before it collapses under its own weight? Or before it gets knocked down and destroyed? Time will tell…

Resistance is growing. People, in large numbers, are taking to the streets. They see grave threats to human rights, to the rights given under the Constitution, to the principles this country was founded on, to the rule of the laws of the land.

They see threats to the environment. To our public lands. To our wild and sacred places. They see threats to the very health of this planet that is our home. Our only home, and they are standing in opposition to these threats.

To my mind these people are the true and real patriots. Resist where you can.

(My apologies to Paul Simon for borrowing the title, but what the hell…)

You hear a lot about the silence of the wild. I’m thinking particularly of the desert where I roam. It’s not really silent though. Yes, compared to the frantic hustling, the racket and ruckus and noise of our towns and highways it’s quiet. But it’s not silent.

There are sounds. The cry of a hawk. The scrawk of a raven. The whistle of a phainopepla, which sounds like somebody whistling from behind a bush trying to get your attention. Sometimes you hear the yap of a coyote or the buzz of a diamondback. You hear the wind. You can hear the roar of the almighty sun as it pounds on your brainpan. Natural sounds.

They’re there for us. If we can pry ourselves loose from the clutches of our every day rat race, from the constant barrage of noise, from the constant chatter in our own heads we might hear them. Maybe. If we learn to listen closely enough. They’re there. We need them.

There’s no reason anyone with a lick of sense or sanity would choose to live in the desert. It’s a tough place. It’s hot – temps can reach 120°. Or more. If it isn’t hot it’s windy. When it’s windy the air is filled with sand and dust. And don’t forget dry. You can dehydrate in no time. Water is your best friend.

Windblown sand can blast the paint off a car. It gets in your clothes. It gets in your bed. It gets in your food. It gets in your ears and nose and mouth. It gets in your eyes – you’ve got to keep them protected. You don’t want to be stumbling around blind out here. Gotta be able to see so you can dodge the rattlesnakes. They don’t like to be stepped on. And in case I forgot to mention it, it’s hot and dry.

No, there’s no good sane reason to live out here in a place like this. It can kill you. Unless of course you love it. And learn to live with it on it’s terms.