The idea of a John Muir Award in the woods stared when Tara 
noticed the “rubbish” that was in the woods – the stuff that shouldn’t be there – so our “conservation” concentrated on that. Most of it was blown in plastic wrappers but also some wet wipes probably left by a passing MAMIL (thanks for that!).
Some of the rubbish we found was much more interesting – bottles started to appear – almost emerging from the earth – and they were old.
A dudgeon bottle was an old beer bottle from what is now called Belhaven Brewery in Dunbar – from this we learnt that John Muir was born in Dunbar.
A Macintyre ginger bottle promoted us to search the internet for John Muir + Macintyre = this takes us quickly to the Sierra Club
In 1892, John Muir and other supporters formed the Sierra Club “to make the mountains glad.” John Muir was the Club’s first president, an office he held until his death in 1914. Muir’s Sierra Club has gone on to help establish a series of new National Parks and a National Wilderness Preservation System.
The Sierra Club was the starting point of Friends of the Earth – It started with John Muir.
and the linked song tells us much about John Muir:-
He was a “lad o’ pairts”
Who developed many arts
When he left the old country
for the USA
His apprenticeship was long
And his love of nature strong
Nows the the time to sing
Let’s hear it for John Muir
There he wandered through the wild
With the wonder of a child
Exploring fragile earth
In many different ways…
His message it is clear
We must handle her with care
Nows the time to sing
Let’s hear it for John Muir
Every flower every tree
Every living thing you see
Are fragments in a tapestry
Of grand design
His message is profound
In one circle we go round
Nows the time to sing
Let’s hear it for John Muir
Every glacier and lake
Every snowy mountain peak
From Yosemite
Up into the Arctic Sea
His message it is plain
Such riches must remain
Nows the time to sing
Let’s hear it for John Muir
Man of letters, mountaineer
Man of silence, pioneer
A guid friend tae the planet
Through all his years
With vision he was fired
Many people he inspired
Nows the time to sing
Let’s hear it for John Muir
A man who earned his fame
Many places bear his name
From Scotland,
to the far shores of America
He blazed a worthy trail
His wisdoms must prevail
Nows the time to sing
Let’s hear it for John Muir
© 2001 Geordie McIntyre PRS/MCPS.
You can hear the song http://www.alisonmcmorland.com/player.asp
A Jack Daniels can made us think of John Muir’s “walk to the gulf” – he traveled through Tennessee during his 1000 mile journey from Kentucky to Florida
…his writings about this journey suggest an awakening to the bigger picture in Nature.
There is not a fragment in all nature, for every relative fragment of one thing is a full harmonious unit in itself. All together form the one grand palimpsest of the world.
You bathe in these spirit-beams, turning round and round, as if warming at a camp-fire. Presently you lose consciousness of your own separate existence: you blend with the landscape, and become part and parcel of nature.
The poet was mistaken when he said, “From the wing no scar the sky sustains.” His eyes were simply too dim to see the scar.
– A Thousand Mile Walk to the Gulf (1916), – John Muir
I love the fact that this deeply enlightened man also liked a party. This story is from when he was snowbound in Yosemite in 1872
In striking contrast with these diminutive wranglings are the broad, loving harmonies of our whisky soirees of which about seven are held weekly.
Each of the two bars now open has its own particular friends and patrons, but neither between dealers nor patrons does there exist the faintest trace of opposition or jealousy. This dealer A gathers up his patrons and repairs to the whisky of B which, together with cards, and bear stories, and shooting scrapes of early days, are freely discussed. Next evening B gathers his patrons and repairs to the whisky of A. The two whiskies are about a mile apart, and between them a nocturnal see-saw of admirable fidelity is maintained, although the two whiskies are not of the same species, one being “bushhead” and the other “golden” pronounced with a long lazy emphasis on the ‘o’.
More shingle houses are being built, one of which is to be a saloon.
Yosemite in Winter
by John Muir (1872)
“whisky soirees, of which about seven are held weekly.” – sounds a bit like lockdown 2020 🙂