A. Botanist, whole foods grocery manager, seaman, bike messenger
A. Acoustic ecologist
A. Winston Churchill High School (Potomac, MD) and University of Wisconsin (Green Bay and Madison)
A. Hank Williams, Sr.
A. Dumb and Dumber
A. I don't get TV in my rural area but when I did watch, it was Johnny Carson's Tonight Show and then The Oprah Winfrey Show.
A. I sleep with an open window and gratitude.
A. The universe is only half made.—John Muir
A. I can’t help but think that this question also implies that happiness is more important than anything else, if for no other reason that it is the first question listed in this section. I once read graffiti scratched on a telephone booth that said, “There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way.” That always struck me. It is a choice to be happy, not as a condition of other things, but as a condition of gratitude for life. But I also believe that happiness is over rated and the search for it, rather than the way of it, consumes too much time and energy. I’d much rather do something meaningful rather than simply be happy, but in the end, I guess it often does wind up being the same. How would I describe perfect meaning?—There is a God.
A. Having to answer questions like this.
A. Home for Christmas. I'm here! Where's Oogie and Abby (my kids)? Hope they make it before the snow piles up any deeper.
A. John Muir
A. My father.
A. Forgetting where my eyeglasses are...
A. Not saying, "Ahh, what the heck, why not?" so often.
A. Becoming a father
A. Limited ability to understand the real question
A. Dolphin in tropical waters (with other dolphins, of course).
A. You'll have to ask my friends, but last week, someone said that my laugh was unique. I think they meant wild and unrestrained, which is true.
A. Probably Superman because he didn't carry a gun and never made a lot of noise while flying.
A. I didn't know I could like bad guys. Anyone with too much slime.
A. That would definitely be John Muir, "Want to go for a long walk?" Hopefully we'd be magically transported to a place in time that was unfamiliar to both of us.
A. chatter boxes
A. nature sound portraiture
A. Do you mean a job that I could never have? Dangerous waste of time but let me give it a try: recycling airplanes and ATV's into hearing protection
A. Kindness towards others, lightheartedness towards self, and humility.
A. My barbecue t-bone, rare over Alder wood with rosemary smoke dosed with plenty of beer and fine conversation.
A. Imagine by John Lennon, Crazy by Willie Nelson, Electric Ladyland by Jimi Hendrix, Why Don't You Love Me (Like You Used to Do) by Hank Williams, Please Forgive Me by David Gray
A. John Muir, Mark Twain, Edward Abbey, John O'Donohue and Ezra Bayda come quickly to mind but the list goes on. It is hard to pick favorites.
A. Again, it is hard to pick favorites but if you are looking for a sequence of books to read next, I will suggest Being Zen by Ezra Bayda, followed by Living Buddha, Living Christ by Thich Nhat Hanh, then bring the whole thing home with a quiet walk through the living library of the Hoh Rain Forest, Olympic Park, and just be.
A. Donald Kroodsma's The Singing Life of Birds
A. Don't write until you can improve on a blank page. (Use paper and pen for the important stuff, believe it or not.)
A. "How do you even think of this stuff?" And my answer is, "I don't." When I listen my mind is blank, absorbing it all. Then later I write it down.
A. One Square Inch (the book) began when a New York literary agent read an article about my work at One Square Inch (the place) by John Grossmann that appeared in Delta Airlines in-flight magazine, Sky. She recognized that the loss of quiet from our lives was more than an article—it was a far reaching subject that literally touched everyone’s life but few knew it. Frankly, John and I balked at her invitation because we knew the subject well enough that to cover it well would require at least two years of diligent work with uncertain rewards, a fact that no doubt accounted for the absence of other books on the subject. However, doing something that could make a real difference weighed in heavily. “What better opportunity would exist to save silence? If not now, when?” were two nagging questions every time I hiked up the Hoh to One Square Inch (the place). I knew John was patient listener and had the tenacity of bulldog for accuracy. But did I trust John enough to reveal my most inward thoughts (and doubts) that I had reserved only for private moments alone in aural solitude? There could be no holding back to do this right. We slowly inched forward. First with the book proposal, this proved our suspicions immediately true. Twice as much work as we had calculated. But the story was uncommon, and we knew it. It would take place across America, we could be the ears for the reader to hear the land rise in its own defense against noise. And what about the logistical nightmare of scheduling places, people and events? Why worry about what will happen next—as with all true adventures, something always happens next . Our journey began just before April Fool’s Day, 2007, ready to fire-up my rickety old VW bus, “Here we go!” we said over the phone. And go we did.