Great Gratitude

Great gratitude—that’s what I feel as I sit beside the Duckabush River, in the Brothers Wilderness, looking upriver towards the snowcapped Olympic Mountains. Gratitude to all the unnamed people who worked to preserve this old-growth forest, with its tall firs, new hemlocks, nurse logs, salal, and sword ferns.
            Reading the book Olympic Battleground: Creating and Defending Olympic National Park, by Carsten Lien, I realize that all of the Olympic Peninsula would have been logged (except in the high mountains) if it were not for the actions of many people to preserve park and wilderness land. If not for the conservationists, I’d have no quiet piece of Eden to pray in and to intimately experience my maker’s obvious joy in life with its variety and interconnectedness.
            Being here informs me that the actions which I and others take to conserve natural land and habitat will pay forward through the generations. Conservation is a team task carried out over decades and centuries, and I’m grateful to the those whose past stewardship work made it possible for me to sit here now, beside this mountain river, and contemplate the wonders of God’s nature.

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