The Silence of the Pine Barrens The cold in northern Michigan does not merely chill the skin; it settles deep into the marrow, carrying the ancient, damp weight of the...
The Impression in the Mud The fog rolling off the Klamath River never quite settled; it lingered like a cold breath trapped beneath the towering green canopy of Humboldt County....
The Awakening in the Woods For the past ninety days, something unusual has been happening in America’s forests, and almost nobody is asking the right question. Everyone is talking about...
The Chill in the Timber The morning air in the Blue Mountains of Oregon bit with a sharp, frost-edged breath that clung to the pine needles and the moss carpeting...
The Whispers of Ashley National Forest The air in Dry Fork Canyon tasted like cold pine needles and impending autumn, sharp enough to sting the back of the throat. It...
The Hollow on the Ridge Two baby Bigfoot was not what I expected to find at the age of seventy-two. I took them in thinking I was doing something kind,...
The Arrival in the Timber The weight settled on the back of my neck like something enormous had leaned in close to look at me, and that was before I...
The Broken Coop My name is Ry. I have farmed the exact same two hundred and twelve acres in rural eastern Oregon for twenty-six years. It is the same land...
The Road to Mount Martell The dashboard clock of the silver Toyota sedan blinked a pale, indifferent digital light as it cut through the dense evening mist rolling off the...
The Edge of the Clearing The dashboard clock glowed a cold, indifferent 11:42 PM as the pickup truck rattled over the final cattle guard of the old logging road. Outside,...