I find deep peace being in the woods. I find my heart awakened being in the wilderness of Colorado. The best time of year is the fall when the aspens are changing from a deep green to a fiery yellow. To be seated near an old decaying log while the royal leaves descend like a massive snow storm is thrilling. David, a man who lived most of his early life in the forest and wilderness of Israel, must have known the beauty of God through His creation when he wrote, “The earth is the LORD’s, and all its fullness, the world and those who dwell therein” (Psalm 24:1).
There is something beautiful about the imperishable of the wilderness. There are the memories of the wilderness hunt. I have so often found myself weeping as I look upon a valley where I watched my sons shoot their first elk. The memories of great times of joy flood my heart. The valley we call “death valley” is the place where my sons Daniel and Isaac first experienced the thrill of a successful hunt. The valley hasn’t changed but my boys have. They came into manhood in the wilderness. I was a father and wilderness guide for them.
Maybe, just maybe, that’s the key to my heart. I’ve watched my sons change and mature in the wild. But the wilderness remains the same. The constant of the wilderness in the ephemeral of life gives me security. With the mechanization and transient of modernity tugging at my emotions to be more functional and efficient, I find my home in the fixed glory of creation. I’ve simply entered the eternal.
Enter the wild this fall—you just might find your heart again!
On the wilderness road,