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  No matter how slow the film, Spirit always stands still long enough for the photographer It has chosen... ~ ~ Minor White

"One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourself out. Be as I am-a reluctant enthusiast... a part time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it is still there. So get out there and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains. Run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely, mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those deskbound people with their hearts in a safe deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards."

~ ~ Edward Abbey

Go my sons, burn your books. Buy yourself stout shoes. Get away to the mountains, the deserts, and the deepest recesses of the earth. In this way and no other will you gain a true knowledge of things and of their properties.

~~Peter Severinus, 1571

WISDOM (?)

I am thinking of the log house,

Where I spent my childhood days,

I am thinking of the cabin,

Where I left my childish ways.

I am thinking of the old church,

Where I went in days of youth,

I am thinking of the preacher,

That I thought spoke perfect truth.

I am thinking of the swimming hole,

And famous "Dripping Spring,"

Of shady nooks and running brooks,

And all that sort of thing.

I did not know the cabin was

So rough and out of line.

I did not know it was not built,

By architect's design.

I did not know the preacher was

Only a Carmelite,

A simple minded country man,

Who never could be right.

I did not know the swimming hole

Was just a muddy creek,

Or that the spring was full of germs -

The water tasted sweet.

I did not know that shady nooks

Brought on rheumatic pains,

Or that the only music was

Made by orchestral strains.

And now that I am growing old,

It almost breaks my heart,

To find that after forty years,

I now have grown too smart.

~~John Logan (Mammoth Cave National Park)