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
A Grand Mystery
I don’t fear falling into anthropomorphism when I think as I did yesterday. The label is used erroneously far more often than not, it seems to me. I will cheerfully call it anthropomorphism when I read on my almond milk container these words: “Shake me up. After opening, I belong in the fridge. And don’t keep me waiting.” But if you go far beyond that, I raise questions. Animal affection and joy, grief, and sadness, thought and care—I see nothing in existence that suggests these qualities are owned and expressed only by humans. The more compelling question to me is why so many people are so concerned to avoid any appearance of granting...
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