ink on glass, 2015.
sounded almost like a dare: You take full
responsibility for what you choose to
forage and eat, so do so at your own risk.
Dare you pluck and eat a weed? Dare you
see the forgotten, neglected orphans of
the plant world?
We did dare, we did, so we plucked
little cheese wheels o= the mallow and
passed them around like communion
wafers, breaking open the pods and
Natalie So is a writer, editor, and photographer
based in San Francisco.
ALEX CARR JOHNSON
aT The Turn of the year, my husband
and I bought a dilapidated house on eight
acres in Podunk western Colorado. Weeks
later, I read that my mountain paradise
had already been established a few hours
to the east. The Rocky Mountain Land
Library, they called it, an old ranch in
South Park that’s being transformed into
a world-class environmental library for
researchers, artists, and writers. I was
curious and, it must be said, envious.
I made the trip to South Park a few
months later. Je= Lee, one of the two
visionaries behind the project, greeted
me on the building’s wide front porch.
He pulled out two rocking chairs. “We
want a place where people will run into
books about landscape and nature all over
campus,” he said.
He came out West thirty years ago for
seasonal U.S. Geological Survey work,