Welcome! I am a contemplative thinker and photographer from Colorado. In this blog, you'll discover photographs that I've taken on my hiking and backpacking trips, mostly in the American West. I've paired these with my favorite inspirational and philosophical quotes - literary passages that emphasize the innate spirituality of the natural world. I hope you enjoy them!

If you'd like to purchase photo-quote greeting cards, please go to www.NaturePhoto-QuoteCards.com .


In the Spirit of Wildness,

Stephen Hatch
Fort Collins, Colorado

P.S. There's a label index at the bottom of the blog.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Trees outstrip most people in the extent and depth of their work for the public good.


"Trees outstrip most people in the extent and depth of their work for the public good."

Sara Ebenreck, American Forests

Photo: A Bristlecone Pine cone rests on an exposed root of a 1600 year-old Bristlecone Pine; Cedar Breaks National Monument, UT; September 1, 2012

My true self is beyond words and concepts because it is utterly particular.


"My true self . . . is beyond words and concepts because it is utterly particular."

Thomas Merton
Trappist monk

Photo: Bristlecone Pine, Cedar Breaks National Monument, UT; September 1, 2012

The presence of the ancestors and of their stories still inhabits the landscape.



"I'm sure that this story [we are telling] will exist a thousand years from now.  We may not recognize that it exists, but it'll be out there in the air.  It'll be out there in the timeless wastes . . . A story does not have to be told to exist.  Even if all the storytellers in the world or all the people in the world were to cease to exist, that particular story would remain . . . I do believe that every word that we speak passes not into death but into some other dimension of existence.  I think that every story that was ever told might be right out there in the landscape . . ."

N. Scott Momaday
Kiowa writer, winner of the Pulitzer Prize

Photo: Desert Paintbrush and Horsecollar Ruin (Ancestral Puebloan); Natural Bridges National Monument, UT; September 3, 2012.  Whenever I hike within these canyons, I can somehow sense the presence - often in palpable way -  of the people who lived here, and of their stories.  Many other travelers in canyon country feel similarly.

Be the crystal cup that rings as it shatters.


Why is this world set up in such a way that life must take life in order to survive?  Many children go through a vegetarian stage when it first hits them that their food was once a living animal.  Many of us as adults also have a tendency toward vegetarianism, for similar reasons.  Of course, fruits, vegetables and grains were once living as well.

How do we reconcile ourselves to this reality? Is there a deeper meaning to the fact that every creature relies on death at every moment to survive?  Contemplative traditions teach us that we can never live fully unless we also contemplate our own death.  In fact, they encourage us to learn to "die before we die."  What does this mean?

Meditation practice teaches us that every thought, sensation and emotion is birthed out of the spaciousness of divine awareness, shimmers for a moment, and then passes away, back into silent awareness.  A split second later, it either reappears out of the spaciousness in similar form, or is replaced by a different thought, sensation or emotion, only to dissipate once more.  In other words, life and death are cycles that occur in every moment.  Meditation teaches us to identify ourselves with the spaciousness of silent awareness rather than with the thoughts and sensations that arise and die at each moment.  To shift the metaphor, we learn to identify more with the vast mountain lake of God's presence than with the sunlight diamonds that continually appear and dissipate on the surface of that lake.

But life and death are not simply two different modes appearing within a succession of moments.  They are also - on a deep level - IDENTICAL to one another.  In reality, each moment of our lives is like a fireworks display - its appearance in vivid colors in all of its glory is ALSO its explosion and dissipation, back into a vast sky.  The poet Rilke has a beautiful line that speaks of this reality.  "Be the crystal cup that rings as it shatters," he says.  Alternately, Jesus puts it this way in the Gospel of Thomas: "Come into being as you pass away."  Perhaps if we could realize that the very appearance of each moment is ALSO its death, we would view death as less something to be feared.  After all, each moment DOES reappear in the next moment, even if in a different form.  Learning to identify ourselves with the spacious and loving divine awareness out of which our lives continually emerge - and into which they pass away at each moment - can help us reconcile ourselves to the reality of death and dying.

Photo: A mountain lion track and a mule deer track appear together in the mud on the edge of a canyon pool at Natural Bridges National Monument, UT; September 3, 2012.  Here, the tracks appear to be going in opposite directions.  Perhaps both lion and deer stopped at the pool to get a drink.  Further on down the trail, it became clear that the mountain lion was following the deer.  A ranger I talked to told me that they'd been seeing evidence of that as a frequent occurrence that particular week.

Friday, September 7, 2012

If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space.



"If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space."

Stephen Hunt
author

Photo: A 1600 year-old Bristlecone Pine hangs out over a cliff at Cedar Breaks National Monument, UT; September 1, 2012

Awe is the beginning of wisdom.


"Awe and wonder - that is the first step in the spiritual journey.  Awe is the beginning of wisdom.  There can be no compromise on this truth."

Matthew Fox

Photo: Greenleaf Manzanita and Bryce Canyon Amphitheater at sunrise; Bryce Canyon National Park, UT; September 1, 2012

Thursday, September 6, 2012

A Spirituality of Hiking in the Landscape of the Ancestral Puebloans


Whenever I hike down into the canyons where the Ancestral Puebloans (the Anasazi) once lived, I find myself profoundly affected.  This is especially true in the Grand Gulch Primitive Area, and in the other canyons of Cedar Mesa, located just west of the town of Blanding, Utah.  Somehow, my usual mental chatter is soothed and quieted by a silence and solitude that hold me in an embrace that is almost palpable.  There, the beauty of the red-and-white candy-striped canyons stuns my mind away from its usual ruts.  The scents of pinyon pine, juniper, sagebrush and cottonwood function like smelling salts, awakening my spirit from the daze of societal stress.  The sand has a cleansing feel that strips away mental complexity, replacing it with a grounded and healing simplicity.  The pueblo dwellings, kivas, rock art and artifacts scattered throughout these canyons bring a feeling of connectedness to something Bigger and more Ancient.  Modern Native Americans would argue that the spirits of the ancestors are present within this land, and can be felt by anyone who is spiritually perceptive. Finally, the ever-present desert heat dazes the mind, suspending chatter and placing it into a spacious meditative state, a condition amplified by the vastness of the landscape.  There is, I find, a feeling of impending danger as well, for it is fairly easy to become momentarily lost in these canyons and on the mesa-tops.  But overall, a healing sense of tranquility, silence, solitude and connectedness prevails.

Photo: This is one of the sites at Turkey Pen Ruin, 4.5 miles from the Kane Gulch trailhead.  It was abandoned in the 12th century, probably because of a period of extended drought. In the foreground are a mano and metate - grinding stones - and some corn that the people left behind.  Because most of the corn cobs are so small - averaging around 3 inches long by a half-inch in diameter - it is easy to imagine that the drought had eventually made farming impractical.  These peoples moved to the pueblos on the Rio Grande River - and to other, more well-watered areas in New Mexico - where they thrive to this day.

Grand Gulch Primitive Area, UT; September 2, 2012

It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.


“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.”

Confucius

Photo: 1600 year-old Bristlecone Pine at Cedar Breaks National Monument, UT; September 1, 2012

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

People don't want to hear any more words. Silence, on the other hand, really does speak to them.


"People don't want to hear any more words.  In our mechanical age, all words have become alike, they've all been reduced to the level of the commercial.  To say 'God is love' is like saying 'Eat Wheaties.'  Things come through on the same wavelength . . . Silence, on the other hand, really does speak to people."

Thomas Merton
Trappist monk

Photo: Sunrise on a Ponderosa Pine and on the "Silent City" section of Bryce Canyon; Bryce Canyon National Park, UT; September 1, 2012

We know the Word is present within us when our heart glows with warmth.


"Now bear with my foolishness for a little.  I want to tell you of my own experience . . I admit that the Word [of insight] has come to me, . . . and has come many times.  But although he has come to me, I have never been conscious of the moment of his coming . . . You ask me then how I know he is present . . . It is not by any movement of his that I recognize his coming; it is not by any of my senses that I perceive he has flooded  the depths of my being.  Only by the warmth of my heart do I perceive his presence . . . My heart grows warm within me, and I know he is there."

St. Bernard of Clairvaux, 
12th century Cistercian monk

Photo: A 500 year-old Douglas-fir glows in reflected orange light, Bryce Canyon National Park, UT; August 31, 2012

Thursday, August 30, 2012

We become like a still lake of purest crystal, and without an effort our depths are revealed to themselves.



"We become like a still lake of purest crystal and without an effort our depths are revealed to ourselves.  All the world goes by us and is reflected in our deeps.  Such clarity!  Obtained by such pure means!  By simple living - by honesty of purpose - we live and rejoice."

Henry David Thoreau

Photo:  Lone Eagle Peak reflected in Mirror Lake; Indian Peaks Wilderness, CO; August 25, 2012.  Yes, the Peak really IS that steep in shape!

Language has created the word 'loneliness' to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word 'solitude' to express the glory of being alone.


"Language . . . has created the word 'loneliness' to express the pain of being alone.  And it has created the word 'solitude' to express the glory of being alone."

Paul Tillich, German-American theologian

Photo: Columbine, Lookout Lake, and Medicine Bow Peak, Snowy Range, WY; August 19, 2012.  At this particular location, this was the last columbine of the season!

Whoever hears the rippling of the rivers will not utterly despair of anything.


"I cannot help being encouraged by this blithe [carefree] activity in the elements - in these degenerate days of men.  Whoever hears the rippling of the rivers will not utterly despair of anything."

Henry David Thoreau

Photo: Wild Geranium leaf and a beautiful cascade both shimmer in last light; Cascade Creek, Indian Peaks Wilderness, CO; August 25, 2012.  This quote is one of my very favorites!

Pikas are creatures of little power, yet they make their home in the crags.



"Conies [pikas]are creatures of little power, yet they make their home in the crags."

Proverbs 30:26

Photo: A pika gathers grass to dry in the sun and store in its rocky burrow for wintertime meals; Snowy Range, WY, August 17, 2012

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Why should we grope among the dry bones of the past? The sun shines today also.


"The foregoing generations beheld God and nature face to face; we, through their eyes.  Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the universe?  Why should not we have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us, and not the history of theirs? . . . Why should we grope among the dry bones of the past? . . . The sun shines to-day also."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Photo: Black-tipped Senecio, quartzite block, and the ridge leading to Medicine Bow Peak; Snowy Range, WY; August 19, 2012