categorically speaking, we are odd creatures - humans. on the whole of this planet we are the only organism that flouts the natural cycles. we have built our arbitrary measure of time and live by it instead of by the moon, the stars, and the sun. we have chosen to recodify and recontextualize that which already made sense. we went out and damaged our own idiom: “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

at night here in sequoia this is readily apparent to me. i am in the front country, as such i cannot avoid human encounter, but the wild aspects of this park run closer to human habitation than most places. near my tent at the close of day, i get the sense of nature readying herself for the night.

each morning i am woken by a cacophony of noises. barking squirrels and chipmunks chittering back and forth with each other, birds calling out territory or crying for mates, the breaking of underbrush from wandering mule deer or black bear, various insects skittering on (or in) my tent. my alarm is set for six but the animals begin their crescendo an hour earlier, coming to life in a graceful arc that follows the slow mountain sunrise.

nights are the same in reverse as the volume and movement calm to stillness and quiet. even the nocturnal creatures move in silence. in the still of the night, the only noise that i hear is human derived - traffic on generals highway, two miles distant and the main road through the park.

every creature here follows the rise and fall of the sun, the change of the weather in the air, the exchange of action in coolness, rest in heat.

i, an outcast, follow a clock.

weekends are my bastion. the clock finds its way beneath a pile of clothing, meals are moved to times of hunger, fire to times of warmth, and waking and sleeping to the times of the sun. outside of the fact that i am, slowly, catching glimpses of simplicity and beauty all around me, other odd things have begun to happen.

for instance, i hardly yawn at all anymore. it’s not that i’m getting any more sleep than i usually do - but my sleep is sound and adequate to what my body needs. i am at rest when the rest of the world rests and am energized throughout the day. my dreams are vivid, wonderful, and story-telling in nature. if i choose to analyze them - play them out in the context of my life - they are often prophetic in their answers and understandings. most importantly, there is a deeper satisfaction in my soul - a calming influence is in effect, a method to my madness so to speak. questions that don’t ultimately matter go from a gnashing roar to a very, very quiet drone. life’s aspects of import take focus without strain or effort. love, trust, and real communication gain precedence - simpler understandings of time, place, being, things, and people are realized. life begins to make sense, why we’re here doesn’t seem like so large a question and the universe offers up all of its wondrous marvels in exchange only for your contented sigh and thankfulness - especially for that in front of your eyes - the simple scene that fills all of your senses with its perfection.

life made sense long before our attempts to classify and codify it. the universe will continue to function and move - past, present, and future - no matter how we define it or attempt to take ownership of it. perhaps the great chorus of human experience could benefit greatly by remembering this every now and again.

there is, and always has been, magic in the woods, the deserts, the lakes, the rivers, the mountains, the plains, the valleys, the oceans, - in all places still wild. if you haven’t yet felt it, now is the time to start looking. if you haven’t felt it in some time, now is when it is best to remember.

there is magic out there to be witnessed and understood. it is the heartbeat of the land, the soul of the earth. it is mother. it is father. it is creator. it is home.