Wednesday, June 24, 2009

There's an art of attending to weather, to the route you take, to the land's marks along the way, to how if you turn around you can see how different the journey back looks from the journey out, to reading the sun and moon and stars to orient yourself, to the direction of running water, to the thousand things that make the wild a text that can be read by the literate. The lost are often illiterate in this language that is the language of the earth itself, or don't stop to read it.

--Rebecca Solnit

Friday, June 19, 2009

ALL THE WORM TRAILS UNDERNEATH THE BARK
OF A GIANT FOREST
write a name in a script
I cannot translate.
And I do not care to.


--Michael McClure

Saturday, June 13, 2009

The woods would be very silent if no birds sang except those that sing best.

--Thoreau