Where is the Wilderness?

I want to go to there.

The first Saturday after moving from Las Vegas, Nevada, to Nampa, Idaho, we decided to go for a picnic in the great outdoors. It took us a long time to drive past all the farms. We thought Idaho would be full of wilderness, and I suppose it is, but from Nampa, one must drive a long way to get past all the farmlands. As we passed crop after crop of private property, I began to suspect this place was not meeting my expectations.

Through the car windows, as far as my eyes could see, in every direction, there was an utter lack of biodiversity in vast parceled fields of corn, sugar beets, or potatoes like a blue-ribbon-odd-scrap-patch-work-quilt not mine and not for sale.

After a long drive, we came to Celebration Park. It wasn’t exactly the wilderness. There was a parking lot. And many other people. But it was next to the Snake River, the scenery was beautiful, and we were getting hungry. So, we stopped.

There were landscaped areas with picnic benches, a boat launch ramp, and trails that would take us past ancient petroglyphs. The park ranger even gave us a brochure.

We hiked up a small hill, delighted by wildflowers. The sunflowers were especially splendid. Wildlife was there too, birds, chipmunks, and we even saw a snake. The petroglyphs excited our imaginations.

What we saw when we got to the peak of the hill solidified a pit of disappointment in my gut. Bulldozers were at work deconstructing nature. Why? My inner wild child demanded to know. Somehow, I managed not to throw myself down on the ground to kick my legs, flail my arms and bawl like a baby, but I was doing it on the inside, frustrated by wilderness lost.

Thank you for reading my response to the Weekly Prompt: Wilderness Lost by Zane Dickens. I lost some sleep pondering all the ways I could have responded.

Among other things, Jill Kelley is a writer living in Idaho.