| “We
are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling
enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore
and cell of us. Our flesh-and-bone tabernacle seems transparent
as glass to the beauty about us, as if truly an inseparable
part of it, thrilling with the air and trees, streams
and rocks, in the waves of the sun, -- a part of all nature,
neither old nor young, sick nor well, but immortal.”
|
|
--
John Muir « My First Summer in the Sierra»
|
|
