The long, long trail, an etching of Theodore Roosevelt published the day after his death by Jay “Ding” Darling, 1919. Theodore Roosevelt Collection, Harvard College Library.
This darksome burn, horseback brown, / His rollrock, highroad roaring down, / In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam / Flutes and low to the lake falls home. / A windpuff-bonnet of fawn-froth / Turns and twindles over the broth / Of a pool so pitchblack, fell-frowning, / It rounds and rounds Despair to drowing. / Degged with dew, dappled with dew / Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through, / Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern, / And a beadbony ash that sits over the burn. / What would the world be, once bereft / Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, / O let them be left, wildness and wet; / Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Inversnaid, Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1918
We made our way down the cliff onto a plateau in the Grand Canyon that offered us solitude from the masses. It was the 22nd of September 2010. Autumn was beginning, and on this night appeared the first full moon the canyon had seen during an equinox in nearly twenty years. The moon-rise in the east coupled with the sunset in the west created a twilight summer-autumn glow seen by everyone in the Northern hemisphere that evening. I’d be damned, if that wasn’t the most glorious of places to witness such an event! It’s a moment that has stayed with me. There in the fading light, PJ belted out love songs on his trumpet, serenading the canyon, while Jason and I continued our hunt for brachiopod fossils until sleep finally overtook us.