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
National Indie Excellence Award Finalist 2020
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
Essays
Philosophical and Political
Featured Post
February Travels
Here I am in Death Valley, along with a million others. Covid has driven hordes of people to the outdoors and this weekend includes Valentine’s Day so I imagine that romance plus cabin fever/boredom has made the crowd even denser than it would have been also, of course, winter is traditionally the time to visit so as not to get broiled. I intend to take some walks to favored places, contemplate the mountains on either side of the Valley, read and write—and keep myself as solitary as I can, never much of a problem for me. I needed to be alone, and this camper is my sanctum, one that at the moment, with 30-40 mph winds coursing through, is...
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