Poets Karla K. Morton and Alan Birkelbach began this journey to celebrate our national parks' 100th anniversary, but for these two poets the sojourns quickly became something greater than that. In their words, 'As humans we have this tendency to look at a piece of land and see real estate. [But] when concrete covers all our natural spaces, not only do we lose earth's creatures, we also lose the great teacher of our souls. You cannot sit beneath trees taller than the Statue of Liberty, or gaze upon vistas untouched since their creation, without feeling the awe and wonder of what the natural world has to offer. You cannot experience such beauty without being wholly changed. Our great-great-great-grandchildren deserve these untouched gifts'.This journey, illustrated with gorgeous colour photos of all of America's grand national parks, is a feast for the eyes and heart. In the end, it is a plea for us to save these wonders for all future generations.

Karla K. Morton's photographs are as sharp-edged as some of the tree branches and animal bones they depict. They are carefully composed and at the same time luminous. Her country buildings convey a touching nostalgia. And many of her landscapes capture the elegance and nobility of the natural world. Each of Alan Birkelbach's poems takes its cue from a Morton picture, stays true to the subject, then quickly-magically-moves into its own terrain, a region where image turns into memory and meditation. This combination of photograph-and-poem is highly satisfying. The two art forms are a perfect fit.

As the 2010 Texas Poet Laureate, Karla K. Morton believes that poetry is everyone's art, and has carved her place in Texas Letters with this stunning collection.
With well-loved titles such as "For Love and Michelangelo," "The Closer," "Why God Needs a Shotgun," "Alamo Coastline," "Woman in the Pipe Shop," and "When Texas No Longer Fits in the Glove Box," Morton's poetry will take you on a journey; her flowing style sparks memories and stirs emotions. Here's a short poem, inspired by a talk with her son, words of advice when he first fell in love:
Don't Be Nervous
when you see her.
Don't worry about
what you will say, or
how you will say it.
Just look at her,
and wonder
how your hand will fit
in the small of her back;
how many pins it takes
to hold up her hair. . .
It's no wonder Morton has been called "one of the more adventurous voices in American poetry . . ."