‘The mountains are calling and I must go.’ John Muir
Since we were small my brother and I have been going on adventures. With limited compass skills we have taken and lost the road less travelled many times.
In bogs and in blizzards we have cursed each other. And yet somehow, each time the old man of the mountains called, we answered.
Whatever happened to those days? When we found doorways to new worlds between pine trees? I guess we got busy. Which happens when you wake up and find you’re not twenty-one anymore. And your big brother has had the bright idea to turn your faith in the recuperative power of nature into a holistic health and wellness business.
But still we hear him calling in his deep Scottish brogue. More so now than ever. Even as our knees creak and our backs ache. Still we hear old ‘John of the Mountains’ calling us out to join him where the pale mist hangs in the tops of the pines and fireflies dance with the sparks of his cook fire. Old John Muir, who remains our guiding spirit, who to our minds had the best idea ever to come out of America; to ring fence wild spaces so that future generations could escape the cities and rejoice in nature before it was too late.
And it is still not too late. To play our own part in life the best way we can. In a life enhanced by nature. Which begins with a single step. So please. Put down your phone.
And go clean your boots. Oil your chain. Leave your cat with your neighbour, scrawl a note on the fridge and come join us. Outside.