More than 130 years ago, a group of conservationists looking to protect wild places recognized that to succeed in their aim, they would need to tell a good story. These early founders of the Sierra Club understood that it would take more than politicking and organizing to inspire a nation high on the gains of industrialization, economic growth, and westward expansion to see the world not as a bounty of resources to claim and extract but as lands, waters, and wildlife to honor and protect. From the knowledge that great storytelling has the power to inform, to inspire, even to catalyze change, the first version of this magazine was born.

Our form has evolved since then, from a monthly book called the Sierra Club Bulletin to the glossy publication you are reading now. Our coverage has also shifted in response to a dynamic world. The November 1959 edition of the Bulletin included a report on the campaign for a National Wilderness Preservation System. Today, you’d be hard-pressed to find a story in Sierra that doesn’t touch on the destructive reality of climate change. In the Bulletin, stories were often told from privileged points of view. We now seek storytellers who bring diverse experiences, backgrounds, and perspectives, especially those from the communities central to their narratives. 

What has not changed over time is our commitment to telling a good yarn, one that jumps off the page and takes the reader to a new place. Some Sierra articles are uplifting. Some are more sober, offering thought-provoking perspectives outside the media echo chamber. In this issue, for example, Justin Nobel’s investigative feature, “Radioactive Shadow Workers,” holds the oil and gas industry accountable for long exposing workers and communities to toxic waste. And Sarah Gilman’s “Alaskan Tribes and Activists Are Ready to Resist Ambler Road, Again” reports on the generational fight to stop the industrial Ambler Road in Arctic Alaska, which the Trump administration is attempting to revive. Serious stories like these can invite new ways to think, to act, to change. At the very least, they shine a light on the injustices of a world still facing the ravages of industrialization, economic growth, and westward expansion.

Recently, though, a longtime reader got us thinking about whether we were striking the right balance in our pages. In a letter, he expressed that perhaps the magazine had become too “dreary” and that he missed the “levity and joy.” This reader might be onto something. We miss it too. On the cover of that 1959 edition of the Bulletin, a quote from Ansel Adams’s friend and fellow photographer Cedric Wright reminds us that awe can deliver its own kind of revelation: “The pictures in my room are windows,” he wrote. “They mean reality and beauty, which arise like a song from the heart of the mountains.”

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We took the reader’s feedback to heart. Starting with this issue, Sierra’s table of contents will direct you to “rays of light” in our stories, from a dreamy photo of a baby primate to tips on backyard bird feeders. We’ve added a Joy tab to our website to help you navigate to awe-inspiring content. And stay tuned: We’re gathering in a creative sandbox this year to experiment with new formats, new content direction, new designs. 

There are many stories to be told—some capturing the world’s troubles and some, its beauty. You can help us find the right balance. Join us in the sandbox by emailing your thoughts to sierra.mail@sierraclub.org. Your voice matters, and we are listening.