This is a beautiful essay. As an American history teacher I think about how many missed opportunities we have had as a nation. The greed ate the continent alive. 30 million bison destroyed all the indigenous people shoved on to reservations all for greed. The land has been destroyed and in essence we destroyed ourselves with it.
Reading this I was reminded of Mary Oliver's poems, so many of which are about the nature all around her, that she is observing, but are also about something else entirely: our human struggles and journeys? Thank you for sharing your thoughts and observations and capacity to see so deeply and so far, with us.
Sarah, meandering through that turf is like meandering through the political landscape today - full of briars, other physical obstacles, mental barriers and a slew of other things! Hopefully, we can conquer all of it! The process will test our commitment to democracy!
Places like this seem to be dangerous, but enticing at the same time! I grew up in rural Georgia where there are “forbidden” locations that one should consider too dangerous to examine, but I’ve gotten punctured by thorns many times. Thanks for sharing!
You are an amazing writer with so much knowledge of things I never knew . It is like I never went to school . Anyway I’m a big fan of all your writing. Your children are so lucky to have a mom with such intelligence and curiosity. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you. My mind lingered on Manifest Destiny and mass murder and the innumerable injustices and toxic waste upon which our nation rests. What an undeserving lot we Americans really are.
And yet, when I hear ‘American Dream’ I see a north star to the First Amendment and a radiant constellation of “self-evident” equalities.
This is a beautiful essay. As an American history teacher I think about how many missed opportunities we have had as a nation. The greed ate the continent alive. 30 million bison destroyed all the indigenous people shoved on to reservations all for greed. The land has been destroyed and in essence we destroyed ourselves with it.
It's so wonderful to hear your voice again.
Reading this I was reminded of Mary Oliver's poems, so many of which are about the nature all around her, that she is observing, but are also about something else entirely: our human struggles and journeys? Thank you for sharing your thoughts and observations and capacity to see so deeply and so far, with us.
Masterful, searing writing. I can almost hold/ press it in my hands, like semi soft, timeless clay.
We are so complicated. And you write beautifully sad about it.
Mesmerizing and so sad...greed and power.
Hauntingly beautiful, " I want to put in at the present, and dam up the past..."
Masterly. Inspired. Stunning, even. Congratulations!
Sarah, meandering through that turf is like meandering through the political landscape today - full of briars, other physical obstacles, mental barriers and a slew of other things! Hopefully, we can conquer all of it! The process will test our commitment to democracy!
Places like this seem to be dangerous, but enticing at the same time! I grew up in rural Georgia where there are “forbidden” locations that one should consider too dangerous to examine, but I’ve gotten punctured by thorns many times. Thanks for sharing!
You are an amazing writer with so much knowledge of things I never knew . It is like I never went to school . Anyway I’m a big fan of all your writing. Your children are so lucky to have a mom with such intelligence and curiosity. Thank you for sharing!
Deeply felt and beautifully written. The ending took my breath away. Thank you.
Beautiful, bracing essay.
Thank you. My mind lingered on Manifest Destiny and mass murder and the innumerable injustices and toxic waste upon which our nation rests. What an undeserving lot we Americans really are.
And yet, when I hear ‘American Dream’ I see a north star to the First Amendment and a radiant constellation of “self-evident” equalities.
Your journey over unknown graves
reminded me of this poem by Baudelaire:
“This heavy burden to uplift,
O Sysiphus, thy pluck is required!
And even though the heart aspired,
Art is long and Time is swift.
“Afar from sepulchres renowned,
To a graveyard, quite apart,
Like a broken drum, my heart,
Beats the funeral marches' sound.
“Many a buried jewel sleeps
In the long-forgotten deeps,
Far from mattock and from sound;
“Many a flower wafts aloft
Its perfumes, like a secret soft,
Within the solitudes, profound.”
- Baudelaire
“Ill Luck”
Amazing.
I always look forward to your writings and photographs, Sarah.
Fantastic! Thanks again for connecting the dots of hard truths with such beautiful writing. I’m definitely ready for the new book.