To Our National Parks,
Thank you for raising us to be brave. We have climbed your ridgelines, legs shaking, eyes squinting, pulses racing as we tiptoe up your skeletal peaks. You take us to the edge every time, and we are left invigorated by the minuscule distance between life and death, the shale edge and the long fall awaiting us on your other side. You have rattled us with your thunder storms, and shaken us to the bone as you toss spears of lightning across your skies and shout and holler with thunder. We have curled deep into our sleeping bags as your storms stir the waters, shake the trees, and shower us in heavy sheets of rain until we are cold and soaked to the bone. We have had nights where we are afraid to close our eyes, terrified by your roaring skies and tumbling waters, only to wake the next day with sun in our eyes and dew on our pillows. We are forced to find stability in ourselves and in those who surround us in your rattling canyons, howling deserts, and dense forests. Fearless, we gallop down your mountains, dive into your rivers, and wander through your deserts. In you, we move beyond our fear.
Thank you for teaching us how to wonder. You have taken our minds and dipped them into your pools of stars, leaving us with constellations in our eyes and stardust on our lips. We never knew the stars could be so bright until we stepped inside your walls. We have showered in your waterfalls and been baptized in your rivers. The world most of us come from is made up of plastic, silicon, paint, and concrete. Inside your borders we realize that we are wild things, like the trees and the plants and the vastness of the places that surround us. We learn to rumble, howl, stomp our feet and shake the ground. Like children, we scamper over rounded boulders, dive into pools of turquoise, and watch trains of clouds drift across the sky.
Thank you for showing us how to love. We drive into your entrances with our fancy cars and unnecessary outdoor equipment. Slowly, peak by peak, tree by tree, you lead us down from the pedestals we put ourselves on until we are on our backs in earthy moss, belongings forgotten. Under the gaze of your wise, wrinkled mountain faces we forget artificial personas we created for ourselves. We live our lives on islands, separated by class, income, status, race, gender, and occupation. Inside, however, we are swept away by your wonder. Those who surround us are no longer strangers, but fellow adventurers. Your frigid expanses, desolate deserts, and endless horizons join our hearts, and we look to each other with tears in our eyes, all of our created hatred forgotten in the embrace of your skies.
Thank you above all for existing. For welcoming us with fresh breezes, filling our hearts with wonder, refreshing our minds, instilling us with wildness, and releasing us back into the world with more than we ever could have asked for.
Sincerely,
All Who Choose To Explore
