Loving Yosemite
by Ranger David Siegenthaler

“We keep hearing it said that we are ‘loving our parks to death,’ but what we really need to know and help others know is how to love our parks.” -----Superintendent David A. Mihalic, Yosemite National Park

I love Yosemite. I also work here. But in spite of the fact that I am in the park so much of the time, I share feelings like those of less frequent visitors: I still gasp at the massive granite cliffs of Yosemite Valley; I still inhale deeply to capture the scent of giant sequoias and I still seek the serenity of their groves; I still exult in feeling moist sphagnum moss cushioning my feet and squirting water through my toes in the subalpine meadows of White Wolf; I am still fascinated by the activities of squirrels, pocket gophers, bears, and nutcrackers; I am still surprised and wonder-struck with new revelations and discoveries; and I still feel I can’t adequately describe in words my feelings and sensations of Yosemite or, for that matter, the meaning this place has for me.

Like many millions of other people, I am left with an indefinable sense that this place is “sacred.” It takes my breath away. It is bigger than I am and frequently new to me. Yet when I’m here I feel a sense of belonging and relationship to the “ground of being” (for lack of a more precise and inclusive name for the great mystery) that I cannot feel when in more tamed and developed urban areas.The idea of “community” receives a new, richer, radically more inclusive meaning in Yosemite. Here I know that “community” does not just refer to my organized relationships with other people, but also includes my relationships with plants and animals (our “fellow mortals” as John Muir referred to them), and the inorganic components and vital processes that sustain life. I feel that this place is to serve a bigger purpose and deserves its special status as a National Park.

I love this place—and I have certain habits of doing so: favorite camping and hiking spots, favorite pastimes, favorite modes of travel. But what distinguishes love from self-indulgence? We hear that our parks are being “loved to death.” I presume this means that there are many people like me who love to be here and experience Yosemite on their own terms—and that those “many” in our simple personal pursuits are collec-tively damaging the very things we profess to love.

Can love tolerate lack of regard for the welfare of the other? Is love not reciprocal, requiring one to limit themselves or even give of one’s self out of respect for the integrity and health of that which we love? Like most park visitors, I recoil at the suggestion that I am simply self-indulgent: I get mad when it is suggested that I think I should have special privilege and want to prevent others from having similar opportunities. So what is love to do? How does one love Yosemite in the company of its many other lovers?

David Siegenthaler has been a National Park Service ranger for 22 years and is currently working closely in the area of public involvement in the park’s planning efforts. His love for Yosemite began during his first visit in 1977