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"To the Wild Country.... where I belong."

Those John Denver song lyrics probably best describe my passion that this scene encompasses as sunset approaches and lights up the red Indian Paintbrush in the meadows of Indian Henry's Hunting Ground at Mount Rainier National Park.

In the dimming light he smiles with memories of their steep march up to this perfect perch to share with friends while the sandstone burned red about them. This quote is from the poem Last Light by Doug Scrima. Terry Tempest Williams, in The Hour of Land: A Personal Topography of America's National Parks shared that her spiritual life is found inside the heart of the wild. Those words resonate with me. I have those feelings when I am on the trail. Those are times that I feel most free as an individual and inspired as an artist. I feel a real sense of joy unburdened by the pressures that seem to hold us back in our day to day routines. Certainly there are physical challenges, but I find that those challenges are what give meaning to the...