The greater part of the year I live in far northern Idaho, fifty miles from Canada. It has been my home for over forty years. Most of the land is forest, when I say most, I’m talking about hundreds of thousands of acres. Because it is relatively unpopulated and densely forested it is home to the other creatures that have been here since the end of the Ice Age. Lewis and Clark came through here, a few miles from where I live, and the same animals they saw are almost all still here, though of course in greatly reduced numbers. White tail and mule deer, elk and moose. Black bear and grizzly bear, bobcats and mountain lions, I have seen all of these. And eagles, osprey, hawks and ravens. All are here. I walk every day in the woods behind our house and each day is a new discovery, if only I pay attention. Deer scat, fresh most mornings, and then the occasional moose droppings, perfectly round and so much larger. Near the sign, a large depression in the tall grass where the moose bedded down for the night. Some mornings there is bear scat, mostly down by the creek, and sometimes it is so fresh it’s practically steaming. I call to the dogs then, to keep them close by my side.

In mid winter we live outside of San Francisco in a suburb of the city. It is very pleasant and there is much to do. Now that I’m older it has also been a welcome relief from the cold winters of the north country, as I find that my blood seems thinner than it used to be. We do have a few coyotes here, striking fear into the hearts of our neighbors, who are afraid that their little dogs will become a tasty meal. Rabbits, yes, and crows also. And many shorebirds are nearby. But, compared to two hundred years ago this land is empty. It is empty because it is so crowded. With seven or eight million of us, there is no room. Here in the San Francisco area there are well over a thousand people per square mile. In North Idaho, it is seventeen. Not seventeen thousand or seventeen hundred. Seventeen.

For the last several years I’ve noticed something when I’m here in this lovely suburb in the winter. I’m lonely. My wife is here with me, sometimes we see good friends and there are responsibilities here, but nevertheless I am lonely. For a few years I attributed this to simply being more comfortable there in our home in Idaho, but I’ve come to suspect that it has to do with the unseen companions that surround me in the north country. I once wrote about Rory, my dog, and he and I being seen by the crows as soon as we walked out our front door. How many more beings are aware of me there, by sight and especially by scent. What do I smell like to a bear? Probably a little rank, I imagine. I am seen and smelt and heard.

I wonder if something deep within me, going back to the savanna in Africa, knows that I am seen, with a kind of knowing that is itself animal like. Animal knowing. And in being seen and in knowing that I’m seen, I know I’m not alone. I’m here with the others, the other beings with their own wisdoms, their own joys and their own certain tragedies. I’m not pretending that I have some kind of knowledge close to approaching what some Native Americans speak of. But after many years I do believe that when I’m away I miss being part of something larger than myself, something that we’ve learned to call an ecology, but I think might better be called a family.

There are more than eight billion of us now and the move towards urbanization over the last century is well known. It leaves perhaps only one or two hundred million of us living like I do in the north country, alongside the other native creatures living out our lives together under the tall trees. Two or three percent of us. I wonder about the rest of us, the other ninety-eight percent. What may the vast majority of us be missing psychically, deep down? Are almost all of us lonely now? Lonely because the other creatures have disappeared, gone before we were even born? And, like ghost animals, are they still watching, watching the human animals that have made them ghosts? Do they now still haunt our own animal with their questions, asking why we destroyed the many Edens and swept them all away forever, silently speaking to us in their own voices, heard now only as a faint unease?

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