Wilderness Questions

When I sit on the side of a mountain in the Sierra Nevada watching clouds journey across the sky, I ponder thoughts and questions that come to mind:

Skyscrapers have been compared to mountain peaks, and when we first see them, we look at them with awe.  But if we keep looking, they begin to seem common, one-dimensional, and uninteresting.  Unlike mountains.

Can great city parks like Central Park in New York City and Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, which were designed by Frederick Law Olmsted, a big fan of Yosemite, ever be a replacement for natural forests?

A temporary substitute, maybe.  Replacement, no. 

Is any other large tree as impressive as a Giant Sequoia? 

Do people need the wilderness to remain wild?

The wilderness was formerly thought of as a forsaken place.  Why?  Because no humans were around to give it value?  Because the wilderness had no material value that humans could exploit?  Because any humans that were there were specks in comparison to something enormous?

What unfulfilled needs do national parks address?  Did national parks only become good when humans needed an escape from what cities had become?

Today many people find spirituality in nature.  Is this because of something that is in nature or because of something that is lacking at home?  Are natural landscapes that are untouched by humans sacred?

Does affinity for the wilderness stem from the landscape in which one was born?  Do people who grow up with four distinct seasons like to camp more than, say, people from San Diego?

If an environment can kill you, does that make it more real?

Does waiting for the sun to rise over the hill, cooking over a campfire, and watching the stars at midnight make you dream of matters more ancient than your birth?

When you stand on the bank of a river, do you feel lonely, thoughtful, or renewed?