By John Pilchard
Far Away From There
Long, long ago in a forest that no one has ever really, actually heard of; nestled away in a teeny tiny little nest, lived a family of bird like creatures. Up near sight they resembled and aviary closely enough but from a far, they are something different entirely. Each creature was different from the next, in a progressively ugly line, which over time only got uglier. The most tragic feature of the bird creatures was most definitely their beaks. They were big and red and crooked. They had several holes in them, scattered about in no particular pattern, to help them breath at such high altitudes. Their feathers were greasy and teal blue, and kind of almost pretty in some harsh light. They had the feet of reptiles, green and scaly, with talons like fishhooks that could pierce any prey. These birds are the last of their kind; every possible creature in the forest hunted them for their beaks, which other creatures used as trophies. These feathered monsters were the most rare in the entire forest. They sat up high, just trying to survive day-to-day, just in search of their next meal.
An article covering the intertribal protest near the Standing Rock Sioux Reservation, with an exploration of the history of reservations.
By Jerry Meitz
I felt compelled to re-organize America’s history in my mind. There has been a markedly distinctive threshold or tipping point between each stage, and it has provided me a lens through which, as uncertain as the future is, I see the next transition. Whether the next era is introduced beyond a precipice or a glide will be determined by intent, prowess, and as many culminating events seem to be, chance.
By Jerry Meitz
I began to be interested in this topic a few years ago when I spent a year living in Burlington, Vermont. I started hiking while there, and I don’t think I can overstate its transformative affect on my life. Beyond becoming, possibly, my most passionate hobby, many of my spiritual beliefs have evolved from time spent amidst the wilderness and above the tree-line. I’ve always been a spiritual person, but it was the landscape of the Lake Champlain area that most inspired my sense of the mystical, the interconnectedness of all life, and a deep interest in studying the world’s wisdom traditions. It was while hiking the wintry trails of Mt Mansfield, outside of Burlington, and looking out over the Champlain Valley, that I began to consider the timelessness of our environment.