sometime after the Barred Owl called out to its mate, but before the Silver Maple erupted into crimson fireworks. On that day, one of you clicked a button on your glowing screen and became Chasing Nature’s 10,000th subscriber.

Although I myself can herald this milestone with gratitude (and announcements for you below), the natural world, if it could, would probably shrug off 10,000 of anything.

Lofty as they are, mosses and roundworms of course have nothing on you. A readership of 10,000 is indeed monumental. That you are here only strengthens my dedication to writing for you every week or so about wildlife, wild places, and the human condition.

Still, this wonderful mark has me feeling somewhat unsettled and reflective about the fate of nature — about its withering role in the human experience and in popular culture. To be sure, any fade on our part from nature warrants a longer essay from me. Until then, here’s a prelude — sort of a test run of the idea (and I welcome your opinion on it, especially pushback, in comments below).

In only a little more than two years since my launch, Chasing Nature, by one measure, has become Substack’s top-ranked publication about the overall science and joy of nature (however you might define the word). Long ago, Chasing Nature cracked the top 20 in Substack’s “Climate & Environment” category (where publications ranked higher than mine cover specifically the climate wars, weather, power generation, or some worthy niche topic). I cite my ranking not to boast, but rather to point out that pure nature writing is too often relegated to the sidelines of the noble places where people share ideas (including here on Substack).

Look around the news, for example, or among celebrity or centers of power. What major newspaper (perhaps other than The Guardian) has a genuine nature beat covering the appreciation of birds, butterflies, botany, or the general wild around us? Rare is the movie star, musician, or athlete leading the way on climate and biodiversity, or simply reminding us to slow down and rediscover our capacity for joy, rejuvenation, and wonder in the natural world.

“I’ve often had this fantasy that we should have Fox News,” the botanist and author Robin Wall Kimmerer has said, “by which I mean news about foxes.” She speaks not only of foxes, of course, but of ferns and fritillaries, orchids and oaks, owls and otters, even mosses growing from cracks in the pavement.

Instead, the culture exalts in so much artifice and elevates to power billionaires who would use up this planet and then rocket to Mars. Left in their exhaust are the voices of Kimmerer, Rachel Carson, Wendell Berry,

,

,

, and so many others who write or have written so eloquently and personally of the intrinsic human bond with nature. (See below for a Substack nature writing directory.)

Please know that this isn’t sour grapes on my part — at least I hope not. The “Climate & Environment” category is rightfully led by

and other urgent voices (even some climate-change skeptics as well, which I suppose goes with the territory). The 20th ranked publication in Substack’s “Fashion & Beauty” category, for example, has 62,000 subscribers (so it appears I’ve got work to do). Substack maintains official categories for writers on “Business,” “Finance,” and “Crypto,” and yet “Climate & Environment” is basically the only place for scores of nature writers.

Again, let me be clear: Substack has indeed elevated eco-voices, including mine — and for that I am beyond grateful (and frankly in the tank for Substack). Chasing Nature has in two years become a vital part of my intellectual and financial well-being. That you are here, and curating your own reading, means that the platform’s green voices, reflecting your voices, are loud and clear. I only wish they were louder and more widespread in the public square. Ten thousand of us can seem so small sometimes, fewer than leaves on a single maple tree.

I guess that’s why I’ll keep writing — to add my voice to a rich tradition of nature writing in so many places, as overwhelmed by zeitgeist as it seems to be becoming. My aspirations for us in nature — no matter where we find it — are simple: slow down, be curious, think, enjoy, thrive, repeat. From there, please do what you can to protect what you love on the long, green path. I pledge to write for you along the way.

So what might I call 10,000 subscribers to Chasing Nature? A damned good start. Thanks for being here.