The Most-Read Trackless Wild Posts of 2025
+ many happy returns of 2026
Thank you for reading my work, especially here on Trackless Wild. I deeply appreciate your support, in all ways. I wish you many happy returns of 2026.
I thank you for holding a vision of deep love for wildness. Thank you for living sustainably, peaceably, and meaningfully.
Here’s to living ever more committed to the amazing planet that is our home.
Here’s to expanding love, creativity, and abundance.
Trackless Wild’s Best of 2025
The results are in!
Here are the top ten best-read posts of 2025 on Trackless Wild. By far, what people chose to read about—or were willing to acknowledge having read—is the wild territory of personal life. And why not? That’s the subject matter that grips me. We want to know that other folks are out there, doing things and feeling things, the way we’re over here feeling things.
I’ve used only one category to rank posts, and that’s number of likes. Number of comments and open rates paint a similar picture.
By 🧡
#1—
How Little Fawn Came to Be: The trackless wild of the heart.
🧡—211
Despite being paywalled, this is the most popular post of all, with 8,480 folks opening it. It tells the unlikely story of how two people, aged 71 and 62, become parents of a newborn. One of those people is me. The newborn is now 17 months old and doing great. Published Jan. 8, 2025.
#2—
🧡—179
By May 2025, people were following the story of hapless parents the age of great-grandparents! I wrote the newsletter mostly in scene, in present tense. So this is not just an announcement. It’s a full-blown essay that will suck you right in. In it I ask for your support of this parenting endeavor, and I announce the baby’s legal name. Published May 20, 2025.
#3—
Report: 100 Days Out. Life on the ground
🧡—173
Because I live in a place that is overwhelmingly conservative and because many of my close friends and family members vote conservatively, I have become adept at focusing on the things that connect us. However, after 100 days of President Trump’s second presidency, I was stricken at the meanness and disruption coming out of the White House. I happened to read an article about people leaving the country. It floored me. I love my country. I love my home. In this piece I talk about why I do not intend to leave. Published April 28.
#4—
Light Over the Pasture: A Thanksgiving Note. Gratitude from quarantine
🧡—133
Oh my heavens. We all had covid. Even the baby. Published Nov. 27.
#5—
Avoid Ticks But Not the Wild: Precautions for going afield
🧡—128
I spent six months on IV antibiotics for Lyme disease. To this day, because of the disease, I have to pay close attention to my (thankfully good) health. Here is everything I know about Lyme disease, written with nature lovers in mind. If you missed this post, at least go take a skim. Please. Whether you spend time rolling naked in the morning dew or not, you need to know about ticks. Published Feb. 8, 2025.
#6—
Pretend This Arrived in Your Mailbox: Special delivery from my home to yours, with best wishes
🧡—119
This was a simple holiday card I sent out last week. It contains three pictures of my little family. Thank you for all the warm holiday greetings you sent back to me. Published Dec. 24.
#7—
All This Is Happening at the Farm
🧡—117
This is a walk around my farm. I was honored that the fine nature writer Ken Lamberton commented on this post, “Such as beautiful place you inhabit, Janisse, in so many ways. Thanks for sharing it with us.” Also the lovely writer and eco-therapist Jeanne Malmgren commented, “Okay, dammit, you made me cry with the Edelweiss-in-the-hotel-lobby story. I love that song. I love that you sing it to Little Fawn. I love the beauty you give us in your posts. ❤️”. Published May 7.
#8—
Then and Now: A quick photo essay of Little Fawn at one year old
For a nod at safety, I’ve put photos of the baby behind a paywall. The paywall is the $33 subscription. I figure the bots won’t pay $33. Here are a few photos of Little Fawn as a newborn compared to one year old plus one incredible photo of my face next to hers as we blow out her one candle. Thank you for taking a look and supporting us. Published Aug. 13.
🧡—111
#9—
The Best Medicine: And the signs that point the way
🧡—109
I never paid much attention to roadsigns in my county until my friend Wes became the sign-person. Suddenly I’m realizing how many signs are misspelled and mispunctuated. This is really an essay about finding the good in life and finding a way to laugh. Published July 30.
#10—
🧡—107
This is an in-depth personal narrative essay about climbing high into a pecan tree trying to rescue a swarm of bees. I was trying to make $100. Here’s a line from it: “High on a trapeze, the goal is not to slip and not to let go. Preferably, you keep two points of contact with the bar or the rope, and if not two, then one.” Published Aug. 20.
What About You?
What wild moment stands clear in your mind from 2025?
Workshop, Today, 1 pm Eastern, Free
🦬 Calling in the Year: A One-Hour Goal-Setting Circle
Have you done your planning for 2026? Have you decided what you’re letting go of? What are you clearing space for?
I’ll open a Zoom room this last day of 2025—today, Wednesday, Dec. 31—at 1 pm Eastern Time.
If you would like a dedicated hour of guided planning, envisioning, goal-setting, and future-casting for the New Year, join me. This time is for you, working in your journal. The vibe will be quiet, reflective, solitary-but-together.
The Circle is limited to 100 people. Please don’t sign up if you aren’t available in person at 1 pm today, Dec. 31.





Two wild moments stand out for 2025. First the decision to let go of my shame and have a bilateral knee operation to replace bone on bone knees and straighten knock knee legs which were causing me severe mobility and back problems. Viola! in my 4th month of a very successful recovery.
Second, stepping into a long time and moving to France with my husband. Family there have guided us to a small village in the Dordogne. My French heart and photographer’s eye are a blaze.
Idalia did a real number on our little piece of the world. Family of ours has a very special piece of land just over the Florida Georgia line. This pristine landscape with old growth pines along the Withlacoochee river has a spring as well. In that spring was an ancient log that was the perfect place to sit and dangle our legs in the cool water. The log disappeared after the storm and we were all heartbroken. The other day we visited this special place and lo and behold, the log was back! It might be in a little different spot but the joy we felt knowing that this beloved piece of wood was back filled my heart. It ties together family memories, tradition, and the love of nature.