Below is a guest blog post from Mark Liebenow, author of Mountains of Light.
In his new book, Liebenow takes us deep into the heart of Yosemite National Park, introducing us to its grand and subtle marvels—and to the observations, reflections, and insights its scenery evokes. Here, he discusses how he comes to his findings in nature.
When I go into nature, whether it’s for a day or a week, I carry a pocket notebook and record my thoughts and observations. At the evening campfire I transfer them to a larger journal, adding in the details before I forget them and pondering the questions raised. Sometimes the meaning of what I experienced isn’t clear until much later. When I arrive home, I research what I noticed and learn more about Yosemite’s history, geology, and biology.
I tend to be a focused writer, which is not always a good thing, but it can be overcome. I write what I see in front of me. Perhaps this is because I have a brief time on a hike to jot something down if I want to make it back to camp before dark. Any extra time is used to explore another interesting area along the trail.
I wanted each chapter in the book to stand on its own, so I looked for an image in each that kept showing up at important times and developed the connections. In one chapter it was the river; in another it was the rock climbers. A friend told me that she intended to read my book straight through but couldn’t because there was so much going on. I told her I was pleased.
People come to Yosemite because there is something here that affects them, something that changes their lives. I think that what is affecting us is also what drew the early pioneers here in the mid 1800s, and what convinced the native tribes to make this valley their home for thousands of years. My search was to find what this was.
I chose to hike alone, which isn’t the smart way to go, but it did allow me to focus on nature, watching and listening to its many voices. I didn’t want to chat with a partner on the trail and miss what was going on in the forest and mountains around me.
Wallace Stegner said that people need the wilderness, if only to come to the edge of it and look. What I do in my book is hike into the wilderness to see what is there. When I stand on the top of Clouds Rest at 10,000 feet and look at the wilderness around me, I am profoundly moved. Nothing else affects me this way. Nothing else inspires me like the wilderness. Nothing else gives me such hope.