A few months ago, I was reading an essay that cited John Muir and for unknown reasons felt more acutely than normal how much I’d loved him and his sensibilities. So, I pulled down the first book of his I’d ever read, the initial introduction occurring in 1988 as I was...
When I see or hear of generosity and self-sacrifice and compassion offered, I am moved and reminded of some people’s remaining readiness to care. I will never be so reclusive as not to recognize the ultimate goodness of these acts. I continue—and assume I always will...
