Welcome to The Wandering Words, a vibrant community where our members come together to share their short stories, creative projects, and experiences inspired by the great outdoors. Join us as we explore new narratives, spark inspiration, and celebrate the beauty of nature through our writing!
Far below the surface, submerged deep within the roots of our species, lies a primal understanding that we are connected to the earth, that we arose from it, that we were created with it and alongside it. It is this deep-rooted sense of connectivity that, when contrasted to the furor and pace of modernity, becomes the magnetic pull of sand and stream, stone and leaf. We belong out there, not in here. The more modernized we become, the more acutely we feel it, and we long to be reunited with the lands of our most ancient memories. We yearn to return home.

You stop looking up. You stop counting time. You let the line of headlamps ahead of you become the only proof that forward still exists.

INCOMING!!! The shout rings out. It is 5:30AM and twenty degrees below zero. The watcher on the river bluff spots a light in the darkness, miles away yet. He sends a companion to warn us. We probably have 10-15 minutes to prepare.

I fell asleep excited about the next day's hike up Mayflower Gulch in the shadow of the craggy peaks of the Tenmile Range. I hadn't journeyed up there in years. Judging from the wildflowers on the other side of the ridge where I had hiked a week earlier, the fields of color near the Boston Mine cabins up Mayflower promised to be spectacular. I would hike three miles round trip, giving me plenty of time for flower photos.

Suddenly, everyone in the car shouted, “Moose!” It was a genuine moment of thrill. Quickly checking my mirrors, I pulled over to the side of the road, adrenaline pumping, hoping the moose would not run off into the forest. I made a U-turn and raced back, equipped with my camera and feeling slightly panicked.
