At the Waterfront in Homestead, Pennsylvania, I discovered a trail with the Monongahela River on one side and a mall on the other side.
Homestead was an access point for immigrants who worked in the Homestead Steel Works during the 19th century. The immigrants moved from the river’s edge up the hill to 8th Avenue. Fast forward into the future, and I spotted a robin on a limb on the trail re-framing the past for leisure and recreation. The rivers edge is covered by trees and weeds, some flowering.
It’s great heading out the woods for a hike but we can find places to walk in urban places like Pittsburgh.
The winter and holidays are upon us. For some, December means great times. For others, the holidays evoke sadness.
Because of the cold, we often stay locked up in our offices and homes surrounded by the dry heat pumping through the vents. Give yourself a little nudge to walk around to look at the holiday decorations. And again, if holidays makes you blue dress for a short hike. The trees in the state parks around Atlanta cast a silvery grey like being in a natural cathedral. Treat yourself spiritually!
If the holidays are merry and bright, if these times are melancholy and sad–you decide–I call on you to simply care of yourself. You can do it outdoors even in winter.
Sometimes it better, sometimes easier, to start with endings than beginnings . . .
With Shelton Johnson
I sat in the amphitheater at Zoo Atlanta listening to Shelton Johnson. He was the keynote speaker for the 6th Annual Keeping it Wild (KIW) Gala, and is a national park ranger and author of Gloryland. As I listened to Shelton, one row back from me I heard the rhythmic breathing of a six year old girl. Shelton’s passionate story-telling and cadence of that small child’s breathing mentally and spiritually took me outdoors.
I imagined being at Yosemite National Park, the source of many of Shelton’s stories. The adults–I was there too–were up late quietly looking up at the sky filled with distant stars and a crescent moon. We had tucked the children away in the tents and we could hear the distinctive breathing of each child, like different signatures on many pages.
So to beginnings. KIW hosted a wonderful gala. It began with a reception filled with people from so many cultures eating from their bamboo plates. Later, more guests filled their plates from a buffet with cornbread, black-eyed peas, and more.
In the amphitheater, the latter part of the evening, I felt love and joy seeing so many people of color listening to Shelton tell his stories. The Buffalo soldiers also drew me in. I cried when one of the soldiers stepped forward and affirmed Shelton in honoring the ancestors. Towards the end, a young woman strummed her guitar singing. We sang along with her about fighting pollution.
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I hope that KIW continues to grow and expands their good work. I may not always express my feelings in the moment but my heart was bursting and full last night, full of Yosemite National Park.
Have you ever jumped in the car with one destination in mind, ending up somewhere else or expanding the original trip? I headed out to the North Georgia Premium Outlet. I spent an hour and a half there: I generally know exactly what I want so no wandering about shopping.
Footstep by the shore.
On the drive back on Georgia 400 to Atlanta, I turned off at the first exit for Lake Lanier. I had no idea what side the lake was on but I was determined to find it. Turning left off the exit, I could only hope for the best. I turned again making a right down a narrow winding street, really it felt like a Nantucket lane on both sides with each house having a personality of its own. No subdivisions here. I looked over to my left and was sure I saw water but no public access.
So I turned back onto the main drag from the 400 turning right this time. I didn’t see any water but felt I was driving in the right direction. As I looked to the left, I saw a car pulling a boat. I was getting warm.
Suddenly a sign: Tidwell Park. My internal compass, passed down genetically from my father, had served me well.
Jarid’s been promoting his book Ghetto Plainsman in the southwest and working with his non-profit Great Plains Restoration Council. Just recently, he did a book signing at The Grove, an outdoor mall in Los Angeles. There’s a farmer’s market near the mall so be sure to check it out when you are in Southern California.
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He’s also been enjoying the outdoors in between all his hard work. Read what he has to say about Palo Duro Canyon in the Texas Panhandle:
Hiked 8 miles..and climbed bare handed up the cliff face to the canyon rim, where it was gale force winds trying to blow me off the top.
“The battle of Palo Duro Canyon was the major battle of the Red River War, which ended in the confinement of southern Plains Indians (Comanches, Kiowas, Kiowa Apaches, Cheyennes, and Arapahos) to the reservations in the Indian Territory. Palo Duro Canyon is significant because it represented the southern Plains Indians’ last effort at military resistance against the encroaching whites.” — Texas Handbook Online
For a place where such violence, sorrow and loss occurred for Indian people, setting the stage for over a century of confinement and disease, and that marked the beginning of the end (death) for the Southern Plains, on this Sunday it was peaceful and oddly serene. Could Palo Duro be trying to teach me about forgiveness — something I always struggle with?
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Jarid will be in Atlanta in the fall with Keeping It Wild. Stay tuned for more details.
I’m just bouncing back from my morning at Shelby Farms in Memphis. Started out with a group a bit after 10a and the Tennesse sun was HOT. The weatherman said it would be feel like 110 with the heat index. He was right. The hike was slated for 2 hours. I made it to an hour. I am not ashamed. I’m just glad I got out there.
Rooted in the Earth at Shelby Farms
And I saw American BISON. That alone was worth the trip. I never thought growing up as an African American girl in Queens, I’d ever see bison.
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Oh, and I was blow drying my hair at home. I looked at my leg and saw what looked like speck of red dirt. Oh no, it was a chigger. I was so shocked, I dropped my dryer and broke it. Creature was red on top with wiggly legs on the underbelly. Yccch.
African Americans and the Environment 