In his book Axe Handles, Gary Snyder recounts “walking the woods on an early Spring dry day” with Wendell Berry and his wife Tanya.
They see the skeleton underlying the land, the geology of “limestone ledges, seabottom strata.”
Tanya finds a tortoise camouflaged under leaves.
Wendell finds a woodchuck hole, crouches down and sticks his face into it.
“Hey, smell that, it’s a fox!”
Snyder gets down on his knees, puts “the opening to my face like a mask. No light; all smell.”
“Some home,” he says.
Wendell Berry and Gary Snyder walking the woods–a Kentucky farmer and a Dharma bum, poet-philosophers of deep ecology.
“Some” is a word with multiple meanings. It is an unknown; it is a portion of something larger; it is something remarkable.
“Some/Home” is a blog about our global home in an era of profound climate change.
In these posts, I will track evidence of those changes in the culture swirling around us. How we see it, smell it, taste it–and the words and pictures we use to tell of it.
And as Berry wrote in his Mad Farmer Manifesto, try to “Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction. Practice resurrection.”