The Key to Thanksgiving Happiness

The Giving Tree

Once there was a tree.

Well, multiple trees.

The trees around my childhood home were alive in a sense of mysticism and imagination.

They each displayed a personality and a sense of responsibility.Continue reading “The Key to Thanksgiving Happiness”

When the Mountain is in Control

Mount Washington 4

The mountain is small, comparatively speaking, but it’s weather patterns rival those of the harshest in the world making it one of the United States’ most dangerous mountains.

I was aware of this and many other facts about Mount Washington in the White Mountains of New Hampshire.  I was aware that in 1934, the weather station built atop the mountain captured the highest wind velocity ever recorded. An astounding 231 mph. I knew that there have been nearly 150 deaths recorded since 1849 and about 25 reported injuries on the mountain each year. I was aware of all of these statistics when my friend and I pulled into the Appalachian Mountain Club Lodge parking lot late that autumn. Continue reading “When the Mountain is in Control”

The Lost Trail of Self-Doubt

The Lost Trail of Self-Doubt

You are hiking. With each step, your boots crunch over a layer of freshly fallen leaves strewn about the forest. The leaves are orange, yellow, and red, and they shine in the sunlight all around you. The autumn air is brisk and clean.Continue reading “The Lost Trail of Self-Doubt”

What is Wilderness Therapy? And Does it Work?

About page

Let me paint you a picture of wilderness therapy. We are sitting in the forest along a mountain trail. The sun is high in the sky, casting golden beams through the green foliage. Within one of those beams sits a young man of 16 years. He sits by himself atop his backpack, boots placed firmly on the ground, elbows on his knees, and his gaze pours out upon the horizon. We walk up and take a seat in the dry dirt beside him.

“Are you alright?”Continue reading “What is Wilderness Therapy? And Does it Work?”

Last Days of Summer

Europe2

The air was hot and stale in the bus and so crowded with people I stood for the entirety of my journey. Muted French voices swirled in the atmosphere around me as their host’s bodies swayed to and fro with the curvatures of the road. I felt sick. With each twist and turn, it seemed as if the bus would tip onto two wheels and proceed to roll down the rocky cliffs and land with a splash in the blue sea below. The driver drove aggressively, honking and shaking his fist at the other vehicles inhabiting the road.Continue reading “Last Days of Summer”