“I took a deep breath and turned toward Joel. Every cell in my body said, ‘Start here.'”

– Then the Trees

“I felt so much release. The earth was giving me a welcome home gift.”

– Then the Trees

“It was like being a water droplet in the midst of the ocean. I had no edges, no beginning or end. I was a beam of light amongst a soup of love.”

– Then the Trees

“The invisible rope that was pulling me in, tugged at my heart.”

– Then the Trees

“The more I relaxed, the less I saw things as they were on earth and started just seeing shapes of shimmering color.”

– Then the Trees

“The gurgling waters carried away the ache, and my lungs filled with soothing air.”

– Then the Trees

“I felt watched over and loved. First flying waters and now a hummingbird poke.”

“There’s something about eating from the earth when you’re in the woods that just seems right.”

– Then the Trees

“I remembered who I truly was, unburdened by my worries and fears, untethered by thoughts. Love, so much love.”

– Then the Trees

“I was done trying to right a perceived wrong. I wanted to move forward and see where the road took me.”

– Then the Trees

“The trees don’t care, they keep to themselves. The animals don’t care as long as you don’t threaten them. In the woods everything just is, is allowed to be.”

– Then the Trees

“The water was about the only thing that was the color I thought it should be. Everything else just seemed to be random.”

– Then the Trees

“Because the wilderness doesn’t judge me, or expect me to be different, I’m protective of her.”

– Then the Trees

“The bubbling streams, like the stars, are a constant reminder of how loved we are.”

– Then the Trees

“When I’m awash with people’s chatter and noisy machines, I don’t hear the nudges, the guidance from the other side.”

– Then the Trees

“Being here was like being in the woods, just love and kindness, no judgment, nobody’s baggage.”

– Then the Trees

“Just see what’s there. See them, feel them coming up. They are there.”

– Then the Trees

In the early 80s, while other kids were playing Pac-Man, HJ was writing BASIC programs and dreaming up worlds where computers and wilderness coexisted in harmony. These days, she still codes – but her best debugging happens during  backpacking trips, where solutions seem to float in on the mountain breeze along with the scent of pine.

Her stories emerge from that sweet spot between technology and wilderness: where satellite phones save lives but can’t replace the wisdom of reading weather patterns, where AI can catalog species but can’t match the thrill of tracking elk through fresh snow, and where the most sophisticated GPS can’t compete with the soul-deep navigation.

When not writing, HJ can be found wearing her trusty zip-off hiking pants (day 4 and counting), testing new dehydrated meal recipes, or explaining to her three rescue cats why they can’t come on her next backcountry adventure. Her belief that true connection happens miles from the nearest cell tower shapes every story she tells, serving as a willing conduit for tales that flow as naturally as mountain streams after the spring thaw.

I’d love for you to keep in touch. Subscribe to my Substack or my newsletter for all the latest!

{

HJ Corning has created a truly magical story. There's nothing else like it. 

- James E.