The Essential Question

Some years ago, I had the amazing opportunity to go tracking at Windy Springs, a private reserve in a valley of the high desert in California’s southern Sierra Nevada mountains, with a wonderful group of outdoor educators from Earth Skills. I was particularly excited because this was habitat for large carnivores that we don’t have in the northeastern United States, and I hoped for the chance to find tracks of one particular animal that is so cool that I didn’t even want to think it was possible.

I arrived in the afternoon, travel-weary but ready for adventure. The valley floor of the preserve had several miles of dusty dirt roads going through the sage brush. This would allow us to pick up fresh animal trails without long hours of searching, and we could maximize our trailing over the day.

Early the next morning, when the sun was still low in the sky (a low sun angle accentuates tracks), we walked from our camp down to the valley floor and started “reading the morning newspaper”—that is, we just started checking the happenings of the night by reading the story in the tracks.

Across the valley floor from our camp, just as the facing valley wall began to rise, we found them. Mountain lion tracks! Fresh, beautiful, and perfect. And not only were there tracks, but also the braided trails of three different individuals. What happened here? Mountain lions are solitary; why were there three big cats together? We carefully measured the tracks and discovered that the threesome was a mother and two almost-grown cubs. One of the cubs had a diagnostic line in its track (kind of like the lines on the palm of your hand) that allowed us to distinguish which cub was which and start to get a read on the different personalities of the youngsters.

After a bit of meandering on the dirt road on the valley floor, the mother and one of the cubs continued along the valley, while the other cub started up the valley wall. We broke into two groups of trackers to follow the cats, and I went up the valley wall to see what this lone cub was up to.

My group tracked our cub for hours—all the while reliving the evening excursion of our new friend and getting to know more and more about its personality. We started to be able to predict when it would go under a tree. Whether it would walk through sandy or rocky patches. Where it would speed up, and where it would slow down. How it ignored the large piles of bear scat full of acorns. Eventually, we tracked it to the top of the valley wall, and we could see from the tracks that it then just turned around and headed back down.

What in the world was going on? Our mountain lion had left its mother and sibling, walked all the way up to the top of the valley wall just to walk back down again? What happened here? What was this telling me? What was this teaching me?

I decided to experience the world as the cat did to try to understand what was going on. I got down on all fours and became the mountain lion. When it took a step to the left, I took a step to the left. Where its tracks showed it looked to the right, I looked to the right. What was it looking at?

I eventually discovered a small circuit in the tracks that we had overlooked before. Our cub friend had walked into a small tunnel created by the shrubs that opened onto a small rocky overlook and then had come back out and continued back down into the valley. Curious as to what it did in this little tunnel, I crawled in, matching my movements to the movements of the cat. As I emerged through the tunnel, I was amazed to see that there, perfectly framed by the shrubs as if it were a painting, was our camp on the other side of the valley.

I sat there awestruck. Last night, our presence in camp had affected this mountain lion’s behavior. It came up here to check out those strange people who had invaded its home. Today, the mountain lion affected our behavior. We were drawn up the valley wall (where we never would have gone) because our mountain lion came up here. So, did that mean that by camping in the valley we caused ourselves to climb the valley wall the next day? We presumed this morning that we had made the decision to climb the valley wall, but apparently the decision had been made for us by the mountain lion last night.

This remains one of my most powerful tracking experiences. It impressed upon me that we are not passive observers, who watch nature as if we are watching a movie. Nor are we even simply reading the book of nature to see what happened. We are true participants. We are in the movie—not just watching it. We are players in the symphony, not just audience members listening to the music. By being in it, we are creators of the story, and, in turn, the story creates us.

So much to ponder. So many possibilities. And it all came about because I kept asking the Essential Question: What happened here? What is this telling me? What is this teaching me?¹

Try: The Essential Question is a tool that is so powerful that it can become a whole framework that draws you into a deep relationship with nature. Next time you go outside, look around for any break in baseline. This could be something that happened last night or something that happened years ago that you never paused to wonder about. It could be anything: a broken stick, a scuff in the soil, a displaced rock, a ruffed-up chunk of moss, a scratch on a tree trunk … anything will do.

Spend at least fifteen minutes simply asking yourself “What happened here?” Don’t be satisfied with a surface-level answer. For example, if it is a broken stick, delve deeply. How did it get broken? Who broke it? Was it an accident or on purpose? How long ago did it get broken? Where was it before it got broken? Can you see where it came from? Really push yourself. Answers are satisfying but it’s more important to ask questions and pay attention to details. Next, move on to “What is this telling me?” For example, if you have deemed the stick was broken by a person, it might be telling you that someone is doing brush clearing in this area. If it was broken by an animal, it may be telling you that a deer ran through here at high speed and crashed into a small branch, which then broke. Make connections that tie one observation to the next. Keep looking for the next piece of this puzzle!

Finally, move on to “What is this teaching me?” In this step it is helpful to pause and sense in yourself how this deeper awareness practice has landed. For example, maybe it is teaching you that there are other areas in your life you need to pay closer attention to. Or perhaps it is teaching you that you want to study deer more closely to understand how they keep from hurting themselves when they run through the forest. Whatever the teaching, you will be enriched.