The sun shone brightly down on the clear waters of Bonneville Lake in the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming. The gray fortresses of the mountains stared moodily down from their lofty heights as if daring us to climb them. The water lapped gently at the rock we sat on as we munched a snack, and we were glad to rest in the sun for a while before continuing the trek out of the mountains. Then, suddenly, a gray-brown streak shot through the water in front of us. What could it be? A

Soft beams of faded evening light sift through the leaves of the highest branches and filter down amongst the watchful tree trunks. The daily chatter of the forest's small inhabitants has died down to the whisper of the few birds whose voices have not yet grown tired. A breeze finds its way into the gloom of the undergrowth, rustling the dry leaves like the roar of a waterfall 1,000 times reduced. Without warning, the sharp sound of a snapping twig bounces into the sky and pe

The summit loomed ahead of us, jutting into the sky like a fearsome fang. My heart raced as I tightened my helmet and took a step forward. We were doing this. I gripped the rock with my hands and tested my footholds for anything loose. I knew that one wrong move or misstep would send me plummeting hundreds of feet down to the bottom of the mountain. I concentrated on gripping the rock and pushing my body up. Then, suddenly, we were there! I scrambled over the last few rocks t

Some of the biggest dangers the mountaineer will encounter are life-threatening weather conditions. Storms constantly rake high mountain peaks in summer months, and climbers every year experience the chilling scenario of being exposed on a high ridge while electricity reigns supreme over every force and every human thought. In a 1989 interview, climber Jules Eichorn recounts his story on aptly named Thunderbolt Peak in the Sierra Nevada mountain range. As he descended the sum

Small creatures are scuttling through the grasses. At first glance, they are almost impossible to see. They perfectly blend in to their habitat – grassy lawns and fields. They nibble at grasses and seeds, catching the occasional insect, until a little before sunset when they retreat into their burrows. These animals are quite easy to identify once you spot them. Thirteen dark and light stripes run along their backs, with small tan spots on the dark stripes. Because of this co

People often fail to see mathematics behind the wonders of Creation. From the dazzling Milky Way to a soaring peak to a tumbling stream, God’s Creation points to a Creator, and we would do well to learn all we can about the laws He has put in place. We are just grasping at understanding these laws, yet we can observe some very interesting mathematical concepts that tend to pop up in the most unexpected places. This article will focus on irrational numbers, and through it all,

Chapter 7: The secret treasure; the story of Chillow the kingfisher Chillow is a kingfisher. But he is not like most kingfishers. In fact, most kingfishers think he’s crazy. Most kingfishers are only concerned about their next meal—what it will be and how they will get it. Kingfishers eat fish, and they get them by diving into the water to snatch them. They perch on a branch over the Cranberry Pond, peering down into the water with their beady black eyes, and, all of a sudden

“There he goes!” “After him!” “I’ve got him—no I haven’t!” “There he is—under that rock!” From the large, colorful Collared Lizards of Oklahoma to the small, spiny lizards and fence lizards of the Southwestern deserts, there is always a lizard to chase, and we must always at least try to catch it. This time, the lizard was a Western Side-Blotched Lizard at the bottom of the Grand Canyon in northern Arizona. This lizard is a small, brown one with a dark blotch behind its fo

Chapter 6: The secret of the best; the story of the quarrel between the bakers In Chapter 5, I introduced you to the baker in the Cranberry Village. His name is Bundt, and he makes the best breads, cakes, and cookies on the Island. But now I must introduce to you a problem which I didn’t mention in Chapter 5. If you remember, I told you that Bundt the baker makes delicious cranberry bread. Do you remember who else in the Village makes cranberry bread? You’re right. It is Mrs.

©2026 by Joshua Venturo Much of the American West is dry rocky land dotted with small patches of brown or soft green bushes. Lofty mountains soar upward from tree-covered valleys, but in most places, once the sweeping ridges give way to lower, more predictable hills, dry grassland or desert prevails. In Arizona, saguaros push toward the sun through the rocky hillsides, slowly soaking in any water available. In California, strange-looking Joshua trees, with their long, pointed

We found him huddled in a hollow between the boulders. We saw the fear in his face as he looked up at us with his big round eyes. And we saw the cruel, barnacle-encrusted rope around his neck. The rope was old and crusty. It looked like it had been there for a long time. It was so tight that it was digging into the poor animal’s skin. There was a deep cut all around his little neck. He was a sea lion. A little baby sea lion all alone in the rocks on the shore of the Oregon Co

Want to Watch a Desert Hairy Scorpion in Action? ©2025 by Joshua Venturo The Mecca Hills of Southern California are dry, dusty, and hot. Each day, the sun beats down, parching the ground until only a few shrubs can survive. Down in the wetter washes and canyons, there are catclaw and paloverde trees. Higher, on the rocky slopes and ridges, there are creosote bushes and spiky ocotillos scattered here and there. Once in a while, there is a branchy cholla cactus bristling with s

Yellow eyes shone out of the black forest, just outside the half-circle of white light our headlamps made. One winked out, then they both disappeared. Moments later, the eyes shown again, this time a few feet to the left. We summited this small Nevada mountain on a nice afternoon hike We had to do something . It was winter in the northern Nevada hills. The days had been getting shorter, and we were out later than we expected. The eyes, and whatever creature they belonged to,

Chapter 5: A secret about bread; the story of Bundt the baker In the middle of the Cranberry Village, there is a tiny, barely noticeable shack that sits by the street in the middle of a long row of shops. And hanging over the door is a crooked sign on which, if you look closely enough, you can barely make out the words “Bundt’s Bakery.” For Bundt the groundhog is far too busy making the best bread in the country to worry about making the outside of his shop fancy. He doesn’t

©2025 by Daniel Venturo It was a nice evening on the Oregon coast, and we had decided to take a tide pooling excursion before cleaning up and having dinner. We climbed through the rocks and started finding things—mammoth green anemones, orange and purple starfish, and spiny sea urchins. We called each other over to see tubeworms , new kinds of starfish, or strange gelatinous blobs. Then, as we peered under a large boulder, we saw a lemon! As we gathered around to examine the

Chapter 4: The secret to courage; the story of Fenton Frog Fenton Frog is a mailman – or a mail-frog I should say. His job every day is to sort out all the letters and packages and things that come to the Cranberry Village and deliver them to the right houses. Fenton loves his job. He enjoys pedaling his bike down all the shady dirt paths of the village with his mail bag slung over his shoulder. He enjoys the singing of the birds and the breeze on his face. Fenton lives on a

Dense forest thins. Views of jagged peaks become unobstructed. A glassy lake appears over a rise, reflecting each patch of snow that...

Chapter 3: The fisherman's secret; the story of Paul the mole There is a pond on the Cranberry Island. It is in a remote, quiet place...

High in the mountains, hidden in small pockets and nooks in the rocks and grass, there are puddles of water. At first glance, these...

Chapter 2: The most important thing; the story of Whisk the squirrel In the little village of Cranberry by the sparkling Cranberry bog,...