What is your home ground?
Barry Lopez, noted author of several books that take an intimate look at the planet, ambled into town last week to
discuss his latest work, Home Ground. I listened to him speak at Seattle Public Library's main branch on Tuesday.
The book is a compilation of definitions of terms for landscape and waterscape features in the United States. The 45 writers and editors range from the famous to the less-so, and include some people who aren't generally thought of as nature writers.
The limitation on English words and words that have entered into English usage is bound to frustrate some, as is the focus on landscape and waterscape. When you hold the hefty, heavy book in your hands, you realize that boundaries were required if the editors hoped to finish the task in their lifetimes.
Each description reads like a casual secret someone wants to tell about their own lives, whether it is a "desire path" - a footpath people have worn away rather than use planned paths - or the more challenging "desert." Some definitions are enhanced by quotes from other published works.
A downy woodpecker is searching for food and a squirrel raucously asserts his territory. Slowly, last year's leaves are turning into forest duff; slowly a young maple is reaching skyward. Out in the falling and rising light, the garden goes through its cycles as well. My days, too, pass like water." - David Landish Barnhill, At Home on the Earth
The most telling comment from Lopez at the reading was when someone asked him whether he is worried about today's children. He said, "I am worried that today's children will think of a sense of place as a sign of naïveté."
This book is an antidote to that worry, and a comfort for those of us who have wandered the country and need the occasional reminder of the comfortable secrets from our home ground.
The P-I has a review of the book in greater detail.


