Editorial June 1, 1998 Issue

No wilderness so desolate

William E. Moody

It was midmorning when we saddled the horses. Spread out before us like a handstitched tapestry was this pristine valley hidden away at the foot of the Colorado Rockies. The sky was blue on more blue. The aspens, yellow gold in the autumn sunshine. The boulder-guarded stream, crystal clear, meandering purposefully across the landscape. The mountains, majestic, rugged, but at play with the sunlight as it bounced from peak to peak.

The horses were eager. We rode carefully for a distance, picking our way along the rocky path at streamside, then cantered across a meadow, and finally pulled the horses up, stopping for a few moments on a rise where we could look back across the entire valley. Beautiful. Wonderful. Exactly that—full of beauty, full of wonder.

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