In the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia, where I grew up, needle-leafed evergreens grew so thick they became invisible, in the way that abundant things do. In my memory, they grow in walls along highways, homogeneous, never-ending. Roads curved or straightened and either way you’d never see ahead or over, because of the pines. You couldn’t catch a view. The ground, wherever I played—at school, at home, in the front yard, in the backyard, by the creek—lay thick with red dry needles. The branches started twenty feet above my head, too high to climb. Continue reading

One of the greatest compliments our show has received is listener requests for more episodes. So now, instead of coming to you just once a month, we’re going to release episodes every few weeks. At the very end of every episode, we’ll let you know when to expect the next one. Because we’re telling more stories, you’ll be hearing a new voice: our producer Erin Jones is stepping in as fill-in host. (You’ve already met her as the storyteller in episode 9, and she’s hosting our newest episode.) Continue reading

Editor’s note: Here’s the first of what we hope will be many guest contributions to the HumaNature blog. (Have an idea for a post? Get in touch!) Susan Anderson, from Evanston, WY, offers encouraging thoughts fitting for the conclusion of an especially acrimonious political campaign season.


A recent interview with Ira Glass on Wyoming Public Radio caught my ear. In it, he praised HumaNature for having a “weird” mission. But is telling stories about human experiences in nature weird? Not in Wyoming, at any rate. Continue reading