Learning the Art of a Short Pilgrimage

 Tyler and I spent last weekend at a KOA campground in Petaluma. We are not KOA campers, but two good friends were passing through in their motorhome, and it had been a few years since we had seen them. We decided to pack our camper and meet them there. The weekend proved to have some surprises for me. The campground is beautifully landscaped with pollinator friendly plants, and many of the tall redwoods and other trees still stand throughout the grounds. Everything was immaculately maintained. This property is owned by a fourth generation family, and it seems that they have learned their lessons well. I was stunned at how large some of the motorhomes were, and almost every one of them had a car or motorcycle in tow. Our little camper looked to be something that had gated in from some archaic planet, but we did have a few of our temporary neighbors stop by to inquire about our curious mode of travel. We even got a couple of thumbs up.  I did not expect to see much wildlife in such an environment, but in the early mornings and evenings, we were graced by the sound of two owls calling back and forth. On Saturday evening, I saw one take to the sky as the neighborhood crows adamantly  voiced their absolute disdain of them. Yet, my biggest surprise came on an early morning walk to the restroom when beautiful fox crossed the path ahead of me. Despite my mission, I instinctively stopped and stood very still. The fox took a moment to look at me cautiously, and then continued on. I felt honored to see this beautiful creature so close, and that moment still comes to mind. More than likely it was a California grey fox, but I have too little knowledge of these beautiful creatures to say for sure. 

On this short trip I began reading a book that a cousin recommended to me: the Cascadia Field Guide edited by Bradfield, Fuhrman, and Sheffield. The book is filled with information about the flora and fauna of Cascadia as well as lovely drawn illustrations and poetry. In the book all life that is found in Cascadia is referred to as beings, giving me hope that as dire as things often seem to be, we humans are making some incremental shifts in how we relate to the life around us.   

Tyler and I do not live in the vast area known as Cascadia. A drawn map included in the book shows that Cascadia stretches from southern Alaska, through western Canada, along the western side of the Rocky Mountains into Washington, Idaho, some of Oregon and part of northern California. I had never heard the term Cascadia, and I am grateful for the introduction.  

This trip was our third "practice" of the art of camping. We are settling into the rhythm of the packing and unpacking. Our hope is to take a longer trip in the fall. My thanks to our friends who invited us to join them for this weekend of pilgrimage, inspiration, and much laughter.       

"This book is for fellow beings - for those who leap, flap, walk, root, crawl, swim, and slither.  It is for a region we love and would love to love more fully." 

introduction to Cascadia Field Guide. May this be a mantra for us all. 

      

image: Tyler, surrounded by largeness. Photograph taken by a small phone.