
An early sign of the gift, powerful and definitive, came when I reached the Sierra Nevada on my dissertation quest. Over the preceding days of driving a thousand plus miles, I had endured bouts of high anxiety. What on earth had I done by leaving a good job and taking off on a romantic journey that might only expose my incompetence as writer, Nature explorer, and scholar, and having no notion what I would do when (if) I successfully finished?
A Life Considered, page 65
photo by Pablo Fierro

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We recognize awakening when we experience it, wonder at the moment’s appearance and passing, and appreciate its teaching.
Reverence for Existence, page 58

Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.
~John Muir

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Ansel Adams
I recently received a book as a gift from an old but rarely seen friend from Texas who’s now in Oklahoma. It was a collection of Ansel Adams photographs of the Sierra Nevada and it turned out to be the right book at the right time since I spent an hour paging through and finding myself more sensitive than ever, I think, to the composition and subjects of the pictures. I too rarely give such things their due. I saw how trees in the foreground or skies full of cloud-blown energy taking three quarters of the scene needed to be seen in a new way for me. Those trees…that sky…I felt to a degree awakened. I pulled down another Adams book that I’d...

It is the twenty-seventh of October now, and early in the morning. The moon is over the southwest mountains. It has definitely moved out of fullness, more noticeable than last night. I have never before asked when and where the moon changes phases. But now I know: always, everywhere, slowly.
Reverence for Existence, page 147
“Going to the woods is going home, for I suppose we came from the woods originally.”
But in some of nature’s forests, the adventurous traveler seems a feeble, unwelcome creature; wild beasts and the weather trying to kill him, the rank, tangled vegetation, armed with spears and stinging needles, barring his way and making life a hard struggle.
~ John Muir