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
Again I sit with the same falleness. Man's knowledge lost to time and sin, forgotten dominion over the soil and the sky. I sit in that part and feel the power of the it. My pen in a fury on the paper in front of me, my pulse quickened with the ideas pounding through my veins.
I return. I reuse. I regret.
I am without the fever that possessed me in the wonderful place. It is necessary, NECESSARY, to climb those rocks and speak with those trees. To speak with oneself in that place. That is really what matters. The ability to hear yourself. Remove the rest of the damned human race from your field of view and find the power of solitude.
The gross heathenism of civilization has generally destroyed nature, and poetry, and all that is spiritual. -John Muir
The idea of progress has been so strained by the human race that those of us with common sense become sickened by the very mention of the word. Forward is only a matter of perspective. It is without power.
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