A small community lies high in the mountains in a state we’ll leave unnamed. Until last year, it had an economy based on the all-too familiar story: Tourism in the high winter and summer months and second-home owners. Healthy hay farms and orchards completed the mix with the farms, in particular, setting a high standard: geometric fields, freshly painted houses and well-maintained tools.
The weather folks said the low tonight is supposed to be 21 degrees below zero. The last six weeks have been tough like that. I bought a new stove for the yurt, but ordered the wrong pipe three different times. Again, I fall asleep staring at the tape that covers the hole in the wall where the stovepipe should be.
Many years ago, when I was in my 20s, I lived in a small apartment in New Haven, Connecticut. I had a chair, a bed, a lamp and some books, and that was about it. I particularly lacked items for my kitchen, and I needed to eat, so I began searching for cooking utensils.
In my quarter century of stupid stunts, I’ve had enough near-death experiences that I’ve accepted the fact that I’m going to die someday. I’m not too bothered by it. There is a beginning and end to all life – and to all human endeavors.
At the age of 18, Yvon Chouinard founded a small blacksmithing company that would later, almost by accident, grow into Patagonia, Inc., an innovative, environmentally conscious outdoor retailer. Yvon’s love of nature developed as a child and at the age of 14, while training to be a falconer, he began a momentously successful rock-climbing career that took him all over the world.
At a recent forum on corporate sustainability, it occurred to me that all the presentations were in some form related to innovation. New technologies for renewable energies, more efficient packaging, reducing transportation, reducing toxics, reducing water usage, recycling materials.
Across the world, nitrogen runoff from synthetic pesticides and fertilizers is creating aquatic dead zones in freshwater lakes and in oceans, killing off species of fish and crustaceans. Called eutrophication, these dead zones are growing exponentially.
While we believe that actions usually speak louder than words, we also value the power of story telling and the clarity and intimacy that good environmental writing can bring to our community. Our environmental feature stories are such testaments, reflections, rants and raves. Colleagues, activists and friends are here, lending their voices to our stubborn and ongoing work for wilderness preservation.