A VOLUNTEERING NATURE

I’ve often hiked the desert scouting for plants as my husband draws illustrations in situ back down the trail. While he draws, I go off with my walking stick, walkie talkie and provisions. While we enjoy ourselves we’re actually volunteering—something we’ve done at a dozen public lands in the southwest, including New Mexico’s Carlsbad Caverns National Park and White Sands National Monument.

We’re just two of the legion of the “boomer” generation who finds land-consciousness volunteering a fulfilling avocation. Being self-employed gives us the flex-time to follow our passions. Others try volunteer vacations or one-day special events. The opportunities are vast, just like the forty-five-plus-percent of public lands in New Mexico.

There’s nothing like feeling vital, fulfilling a dream, stretching your skills or your muscles, or becoming intimate with a horizon you’ve glanced at for years. All done in the name of helping a non-profit, pursuing your avocation, or helping out the managers of your favorite spot of public land.

Numerous state and local organizations will be glad to receive your inquiry, from the New Mexico Wilderness Alliance and the New Mexico Volunteers for the Outdoors to Albuquerque’s Bio Park. Plenty of help is needed indoors, too, at environmental advocacy groups.

Volunteering has enhanced my relationship with the natural world, exposed me to ecosystems that fill me with awe, as well as with curiosity about the fauna, the flora and the geology that formed these grand landscapes. In the wilderness, I’ve found renewed confidence as a solo hiker and wrapped my brain around bites of natural science.

It was in the desert of Saudia Arabia where my father worked as a geologist that my childhood senses woke to the importance of the land. Upon graduating from high school, I equipped myself with the seminal book, “Sand County Almanac,” a back pack and a sleeping bag and like Thoreau advised, I hopped over the back fence and set out for adventure. But I never really made it to the “outback” the way I have as a middle-aged volunteer. This year, I celebrated turning 50 and delight to find my inner roads have converged with the one-lane rural outback. That I’ve morphed from an urban activist to a rural advocate.

The path through the golden grass behind my suburban childhood held rabbits, turtles, and little me when I sat down to create make-believe worlds. In a life transforming decade as a sometime-volunteer in the high desert, I’ve slowly found an adult path through the sand.

In homage to our wealthy of public lands, I often recall the timeless song of my childhood by Woodie Guthrie: “This land is your land. This land is my land.” Let’s all contribute to keep our “Purple mountains majesty” …the sweet land it is, to have and to hold.

ESSAY BY ROSIE DEMPSEY