From above, to a hawk, the bend must appear only natural and I for the moment inseparably a part, like salmon or a flower. I cannot say well enough how this single perception has dismantled my loneliness. - Barry Lopez
Barry Lopez traveled to remote landscapes to discover nature's mysteries and majesty. They nourished his senses as he wrote and promoted our responsibilities for the earth's care. He left the earth on Christmas Day, 2020, to discover new terrain in Heaven.
Barry Lopez earned a bachelor's and master's degree from Notre Dame. He moved to Oregon for graduate work in folklore and journalism at the University of Oregon. He won the 1986 National Book Award for Arctic Dreans.
Barry described a cloudy sky, "Grays of pigeon feathers, of slate and pearls."
He has been described as "the nation's premier nature writer" by the San Francisco Chronicle. In his non-fiction, Barry frequently examined the relationship between human culture and the physical landscape, He also became a landscape photographer and collaborated with other artists and writers.
During a visit to the Canadian Arctic, Barry Lopez found himself within a mystical experience. He wrote, "There are no shadows. Space has no depth. There is no horizon. The bottom of the world disappears. On foot, you stumble about in missed stair-step fashion. It is precisely because the regimes of light and time in the Arctic are so different that this landscape is able to explore in startling ways the complacency of our thoughts about land in general."
When Barry felt frustrated with his writing he would walk along Eugene's McKenzie river watching nature. "Every time I did there was a beaver stick in the water at my feet. So I imagined the beavers were saying, "When the hell's wrong with you? You get back in there and do your work." He collected the sticks as reminders.
He spent thirty years to write his book, Horizon. considering all that is connected.
"It's so difficult to be a human being. There are so many reasons to give up. To retreat into cynicism or despair. I hate to see that and I want to do something that makes people feel safe and loved and capable."
During his last days in Hospice, his family bought him the beaver sticks he had collected.
Rip, Barry. You will continue to find wonder.
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