When I moved out to Boston MA from Buffalo NY, I thought I would work for an established publishing house like Houghton Mifflin, live in the city and eat fresh-baked croissants wearing leather gloves. Things turned out differently, and I learned what I really love about Boston is its extraordinary proximity to well-preserved trails, ponds, trees and mountains. How fortunate I am to have forged a relationship with these things.
Burroughs wrote from the bark of this kind of personable environmentalism; one which illustrates self-reflection in nature while proposing each element is worth conserving in and of itself. His work was highly acclaimed and has inspired many travel- and nature-writers to explore the light-footed love of their own backyards, as well as the grandest mountains.
My own backyard is small, but my appreciation for the nature around me is far and wide. Burroughs influence has asked us for a century, “Look up at the miracle of the falling snow”, sometimes more lovely than the city lights.