People in Parks

What I loved in the beginning, I think, was mostly myself.
Never mind that I had to, since somebody had to.
That was many years ago.
Since then I have gone out from my confinements,
   though with difficulty.
I mean the ones that thought to rule my heart.
I cast them out, I put them on the mush pile.
They will be nourishment somehow (everything is nourishment
somehow or another).

And I have become the child of the clouds, and of hope.
I have become the friend of the enemy, whoever that is.
I have become older and, cherishing what I have learned,
I have become younger.

And what do I risk to tell you this, which is all I know?
Love yourself. Then forget it. Then, love the world.

Mary Oliver, from “To Begin With, the Sweet Grass” 


it is fall, i guess

It is fall, I guess, and none of the leaves are turning color. That’s not true. The western sycamores in Big Sur are. The coast live oak whose leaves perpetually carpet camp’s trails. The lone sugar maple in Yosemite whose blood heart leaves people drive three, four hours just to see, just to witness. I …


People in Parks

Hi, I’m Channing. I’m an educator, writer, learner, and outdoorsperson. Less is probably more since my life changes more than this About page does.

This blog started as a collection of pieces about our parks and wilderness, but it’s evolved since it started in 2017. More amorphous and meandering, snippets of my life mixed with those of the greater world. It’s a little bit of everything. A lot of bit of nothing.

I hope you stick around.


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