Thirty-some years ago when I was in college, I had a summer photography internship at National Geographic Magazine. I was a 19 year-old kid from Ohio. At the time I believe a two-hour drive from Cleveland to Columbus was a big deal for me, and it is not an overstatement to say that internship was a window, opening on a new world.
Over time I suppose I’ll write more on this blog about my Geographic experience. Today I’m thinking about how the magazine sent me on assignments in the American West.
I recently made a note of something I liked in one of the “Lord of the Rings” movies. Bilbo Baggins tells Frodo:
“It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step out onto the road and if you don’t watch your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
And here’s an excerpt of something wonderful, written by the poet Mary Oliver:
The way I’d like to go on living in this world
wouldn’t hurt anything, I’d just go on
walking uphill and downhill, looking around,
and so what if half the time I don’t know
what for--
When the Geographic sent me West, I took pictures of cowboys; I bought myself a big, Western-style belt buckle. Eventually I found myself in the Pacific Northwest, where I walked forest trails so green it made my eyes hurt, and I climbed high into mountains where I swear I thought my heart would explode in my chest. And I knew I had found a new home.
It’s funny how a place can resonate within us. I’m still very much a kid from Ohio, but look, Frodo, at where my feet have taken me.
