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The Amish live close to the land, necessarily incorporating seasonal rhythms into their lives. After all the plowing and planting and nurturing and harvesting, the landscape breathes a sigh of relief as the world enters winter dormancy. But not the Amish. Their lives are still busy with the daily rhythms of farm life. The horses and chickens must be fed. The children must walk to their one-room schools. Ice must be harvested…. Read More

Examining a map of Newfoundland, I noticed some dashed lines curving out over the Atlantic Ocean and paralleling the coast. One of these lines led out from the remote port of Burgeo, on the south coast, and looped along the coastline, stopping at a few tiny and isolated communities. I wanted to experience one of these outports, which are connected to the rest of Newfoundland only by a small ferry, so we made plans to visit the village of Francois in the middle of February.

Sweeping through the sky, driven by cold fronts and the coming snows; heading southward and westward to the central California coast, where sunny days and mild breezes await. The journey is treacherous, with predators and sudden storms poised to take a toll, but many get through, ending up in a few coastal towns in a few parks and on a few trees, where they roost by the hundreds and sometimes thousands.

There are places where experiences are so profound that they draw you back time after time. Olympic National Park’s Shi Shi Beach and Point of Arches is such a place for me. The words in this story are from our 1991 field notes of our first visits to this transcendent place, illustrated with new and old photographs presented in a nostalgic style.

We were staying in a log hut during a Seattle Mountaineers trip to Mount Assiniboine Provincial Park, one of the dramatic high country huts in the Canadian Rockies, when it snowed one night. The next morning, Karen led an effort to create a snowman that reflected the changing seasons. It had a rain hat and a warm woolen scarf, as well as an evergreen mouth, a traditional carrot nose, and eyes of still-flowering… Read More

Our power went out before dawn, and we awoke to a slightly chilled house. It would get every colder over the next three days, as our veneer of civilization cracked under the weight of the ice.

Northern Shoveler ducks fed communally in a spiral-like formation on Seattle’s Green Lake.