You don’t notice the noise pollution until you’re removed from it. Lawnmowers, leaf blowers, construction crews, power sprayers, weed whackers…all of these tools create a constant sonic presence. The first night away from these noises is discombobulating, and you can hear their fading presence as you settle into your sleeping bag. It is not until the next day that you adjust to the wilderness. These jarring tools are replaced by flittering birds, trickling creeks, and rustling leaves.
That’s why the last night at camp is always the most difficult. You’ve become accustomed to the pleasing, calm timbres of the wilderness, and soon you’ll begin a descent into ear-jamming territory. You’re leaving one world and entering another. The urban landscape we’ve created clashes with the few remaining wilderness areas.
The photo above was my last night in the Gallatin National Forest. The fire is mine (if fire could ever be such a thing). It’s one of my favorite campsites in the U.S., bordering the million acre Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness. Many thoughts go through your mind on the last night in camp. The pulsing embers and heat on your face seem to pull these thoughts into greater clarity. Why am I here? What of the things I love and care for? What will happen to all of us? And then the stars materialize, bright enough to show through dense spruce trees. And you stand, and you watch the flickering points of light. It’s overwhelming, watching planets and stars from a million miles way with river sound at your feet and the wind in the pines. There’s a connection there, perhaps more of a connection than we could ever make by metal and motor. This connection can only be made in the absence of noise and light pollution, and in the presence of wilderness. In the end, it’s real. And in that you have an answer to the questions.
Did you take that photo? Those stars are, like, better than the Star Wars stars. Nature is certainly a beautiful thing, and generates many of my writing ideas. I’m blessed to be able to live in a wooded area with plenty of space and trees and seeable stars.
Thanks, Rain. I did indeed take the photo. All of the photos on this site were taken by me (including the header photos) unless noted otherwise.
And yes, you are lucky to live in a place with minimal light pollution. The night sky in this area has lost the haze thanks to cooler weather. The stars are nice and crisp, although not plentiful. That said, I still find inspiration even in the few, tiny parks in this area.