Discuss: Wayfinding
4 comments
Sherry Simpson’s essay “Wayfinding” really made my day, especially the concepts of axis mundi, home and wilderness. “Wayfinding” prompted me review my concepts of my world and connect some of the high points of my growing years to my present views and values.
Axis mundi reminded me of da Vinci’s Vitriuvian man and the artful way that he linked the human body, its symmetry and proportion to the universe. It reinforced my beliefs that mountains, high places and trees are my sacred places and my link to the heavens.
As far back as I can remember I have always had an intense sense of belonging, safety and security among trees and mountains. They are indelibly linked to my being. I love John Muir’s essay “A Windstorm in the Forests” where he details climbing a huge tree to ride out and experience a windstorm - nature at its wildest and finest! I have always felt at home among mountains and trees, especially the trees. That’s probably because my childhood was spent in a little New Jersey town (Yes, there once were places like that!) Our “mountains”, the rolling, time worn foothills of the Appalachians towered a meager 300 feet above our sleepy river valley, but they were our mountains. I like to think that I spent most of my childhood hiking those mountains or cradled in the high branches of a tree. When I wasn’t up a tree I was usually paddling my canoe on the river. My wilderness was a couple miles of river that flowed under and between the ornate white county-road bridges just upstream from town. There was the center of my universe where I felt at home: my world to discover, and my escape. Towering oaks, hickories, maples, tulip trees and sweet gums filled the riverside slopes; fat sycamores and weeping willows lined the riverbanks. One of my special places was a secret campsite in a grove of huge old hemlocks tucked away along a river bend. Great horned owls nested there. Their regurgitated pellets littered the forest floor around the nest tree. Picking apart a desiccated pellet was like viewing the menu from the owl café: bones and fur and feathers!
Living here in Alaska for the past 31 years, essentially my entire adult life, I’ve bonded with some REAL mountains. Mountains are more prevalent than tall trees here in the North. The Chugach Mountains cradle Anchorage along the Pacific coast and form the heart of my sense of place, home and belonging. They are my primary axis here. Occasionally in my wanderings I find a nice big tree, and those same old feelings from my childhood come rushing back.
I live for the chances to experience and explore these mountains in every season. When I can’t be there, I like to study them, following the ridgelines, picking out the trails, ridgelines and peaks that I know and love, watching them transform in the ever changing light. When I fly in or out of Anchorage, my head is glued to the window, straining to get a bird’s eye view of my favorite places.
Thank you Sherry for sharing your essay. It brought back so many feelings and memories. It reinforced my sense of place and belonging. Keep up the good work!
Gary Bullock, Anchorage, AK
As a crochety elder I am usually not easily satisfied with today’s reading fare. However, I found the extract from Mrs. Simpson’s latest opus to be an exception. Perhaps this is so because I agree with her concept of “being” as a symbiotic relationship between self and the marvelous, life friendly planet on which we find ourselves. Many thanks .
Yours sincerely,
Pierce Cabot
I discovered your magazine’s website this morning after reading “In search of silence” by Kathleen Dean Moore in “UTNE”. What a gift! This essay by Sherry Simpson meets me in my heart. Having grown up on the coast of British Columbia, then moved to Switzerland at the age of 22, I feel at home in wild places of rock, forest, and water; and have sometimes wondered if it was really best for me to leave the true wildness of B.C. This essay confirms the truth I have had many glimpses of over these 44 years: namely, that we can experience oneness and a perfect feeling of being at home with a tree, a rock, a flower, or the waves anywhere if we just stop and be.
Thank you, Sherry.
I so enjoyed reading this.
Sherry Simpson’s essay “Wayfinding” really made my day, especially the concepts of axis mundi, home and wilderness. “Wayfinding” prompted me review my concepts of my world and connect some of the high points of my growing years to my present views and values.
Axis mundi reminded me of da Vinci’s Vitriuvian man and the artful way that he linked the human body, its symmetry and proportion to the universe. It reinforced my beliefs that mountains, high places and trees are my sacred places and my link to the heavens.
As far back as I can remember I have always had an intense sense of belonging, safety and security among trees and mountains. They are indelibly linked to my being. I love John Muir’s essay “A Windstorm in the Forests” where he details climbing a huge tree to ride out and experience a windstorm - nature at its wildest and finest! I have always felt at home among mountains and trees, especially the trees. That’s probably because my childhood was spent in a little New Jersey town (Yes, there once were places like that!) Our “mountains”, the rolling, time worn foothills of the Appalachians towered a meager 300 feet above our sleepy river valley, but they were our mountains. I like to think that I spent most of my childhood hiking those mountains or cradled in the high branches of a tree. When I wasn’t up a tree I was usually paddling my canoe on the river. My wilderness was a couple miles of river that flowed under and between the ornate white county-road bridges just upstream from town. There was the center of my universe where I felt at home: my world to discover, and my escape. Towering oaks, hickories, maples, tulip trees and sweet gums filled the riverside slopes; fat sycamores and weeping willows lined the riverbanks. One of my special places was a secret campsite in a grove of huge old hemlocks tucked away along a river bend. Great horned owls nested there. Their regurgitated pellets littered the forest floor around the nest tree. Picking apart a desiccated pellet was like viewing the menu from the owl café: bones and fur and feathers!
Living here in Alaska for the past 31 years, essentially my entire adult life, I’ve bonded with some REAL mountains. Mountains are more prevalent than tall trees here in the North. The Chugach Mountains cradle Anchorage along the Pacific coast and form the heart of my sense of place, home and belonging. They are my primary axis here. Occasionally in my wanderings I find a nice big tree, and those same old feelings from my childhood come rushing back.
I live for the chances to experience and explore these mountains in every season. When I can’t be there, I like to study them, following the ridgelines, picking out the trails, ridgelines and peaks that I know and love, watching them transform in the ever changing light. When I fly in or out of Anchorage, my head is glued to the window, straining to get a bird’s eye view of my favorite places.
Thank you Sherry for sharing your essay. It brought back so many feelings and memories. It reinforced my sense of place and belonging. Keep up the good work!
Gary Bullock, Anchorage, AK