I walk a plotted path
across a corralled landscape.
Designation of National Park
invoking notions of wilderness and nature,
pristine and free from Human contamination.
Except of course, it is not.
Everywhere the impact of us:
visible in the blackberry bramble;
heard in the row of cars rushing past.
The tragedy is not the presence of us
the absence of a people who belong
in ways I can barely comprehend.
People who know the contours and creatures,
seen and unseen.
People who breathe, sing and dance with the land.
The land responding.
A fuller way to be human.
To be earthlings.