Having recently found out that my nephew, a good friend is reading and enjoying a book that I had read and loved decades ago, I pulled my copy off the shelf and started re-reading it. This isn’t just the second time I’ve read it; I can’t even guess at the number times I’ve been transfixed by this book.
The book is Desert Solitaire, written by Edward Abbey in 1968. It was the first non-fiction book that Abbey wrote, a nature narrative compared by some to Thoreau’s Walden.
I probably discovered the book in the mid 70’s. Telling about his years as a park ranger, Edward writes about the joys of sitting with his cup of coffee and waiting for the sun to make its appearance in the morning and watching the moon rise in the evening. He writes about the things I wanted to do and things that I still do now!
As I was reading, I watched as the sunlight crawled up the hillside across from my vantage point. The sun was slowly setting, I couldn’t see it from where I was, but I could see its light. As the sun dropped closer to the horizon its orange light climbed up the hill across from it, leaving the trees below in shadow. Soon it was on just the tips of the trees and then the brightness of the sun disappeared.
It is a Friday night; the sounds of the traffic on the roads below have quieted down. It is far from silent though, nothing like the quiet and solitude of the desert that Edward had written about.
The trees and the woods are losing their details, the trees are no longer individuals, they have become a mass, a collection of greens and browns. A few dead trees stand separately, their trunks and branches white, like skeletons. In the sky the clouds are gaining a pinkish tinge.
I had just read about Edward’s ideas about banning cars and roads from the national parks. Eliminating powered transportation and requiring visitors to hike or ride on mules or horses, making them see the wonders of the land the way they have been seen for centuries, under their own power. He was definitely against “industrial tourism”. He knew it was coming and there wasn't much he could do other than write about it. (He does mention a couple other things in his book(s)...)
My reading has only taken me through 60 pages, give or take, yet I understand already what it is about his writing that captured me so long ago. I don’t agree with all his ideas but yet I have always admired this man, his thoughts and his writing.
I am no longer sitting at a table in my backyard in Western Pennsylvania. I am in Arches National Park in Utah, along with my teacher Edward Abbey. He is explaining about the desert, telling me about the wildlife, the soil and the plants that inhabit this difficult land. He is telling me how important it is that we preserve our world!
If you’ll excuse me now, I am going to sit down by his campfire again and listen a bit further. This is just like visiting with an old friend!
