“Any fool can destroy trees. They cannot defend themselves or run away. And few destroyers of trees ever plant any; nor can planting avail much toward restoring our grand aboriginal giants. It took more than three thousand years to make some of the oldest of the Sequoias, trees that are still standing in perfect strength and beauty, waving and singing in the mighty forests of the Sierra. Through all the eventful centuries since Christ’s time, and long before that, God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand storms; but he cannot save them from sawmills and fools; this is left to the American people.” – John Muir

Posted: January 28th, 2010 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: 3

“The secret of the mountains is that they simply exist, as I do myself: the mountains exist simply, which I do not. The mountains have no “meaning,” they are meaning; the mountains are. The sun is round. I ring with life, and the mountains ring, and when I can hear it, there is a ringing that we share. I understand all this, not in my mind but in my heart, knowing how meaningless it is to try to capture what cannot be expressed, knowing that mere words will remain when I read it all again, another day.”

- Peter Matthiessen, The Snow Leopard

Posted: January 13th, 2010 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: 1

Merry Xmas y’all:

A promise to California,
Or inland to the great pastoral Plains, and on to Puget sound and Oregon;
Sojourning east a while longer, soon I travel toward you, to remain,
to teach robust American love,
For I know very well that I and robust love belong among you,
inland, and along the Western sea;
For these States tend inland and toward the Western sea, and I will also.

MP3: The Band – Christmas Must Be Tonight (Thanks)

Posted: December 25th, 2008 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: 1

The west was getting out of gold,
The breath of air had died of cold,
When shoeing home across the white,
I thought I saw a bird alight.

Looking For A Sunset Bird In Winter

Posted: October 23rd, 2008 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: 1

Of course I litter the public highway. Every chance I get. After all, it’s not the beer cans that are ugly; it’s the highway that is ugly. – Ed Abbey

MP3: Free Beer – Cruisin

Posted: October 21st, 2008 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: none

Be still and know you are
Be still and listen to your heartbeat
Feel it pumping blood and energy and life into every cell in your body
Know that your life is meant for joy
That you’re meant to grow sturdy like the tall oak tree *

MP3: Stephen John Kalinich – Be Still

Posted: October 7th, 2008 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: none

Brightblack Morning Light are on the cover of the newest FADER magazine and the pictures of the band’s off the grid life in New Mexico are a-fucking-mazing. I didn’t get a chance to read the article so I’m not exactly sure where in New Mexico they are, but let’s get a stick, a bandana, a good pair of army boots, and start walking.

From Death Comes For The Archbishop:

At sunrise next morning Father Vallaint set out, Sabino driving the wagon, his oldest boy riding Angelica, and Father Joseph riding Contento. They took the old road to the northeast, through the sharp red sand-hills spotted with juniper, and the Bishop accompanied them as far as the loop where the road wound out on the top of one of those conical hills, giving the departing traveller his last glimpse of Santa Fe. There Father Joseph drew rein and looked back at the town lying rosy in the morning light, the mountain behind it, and the hills close about it like two encircling arms.

“Auspice, Maria!” he murmured as he turned his back on these familiar things.

MP3: Brightblack Morning Light – Oppressions Each

Posted: September 23rd, 2008 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: none

We left in April. Six of us in all. Mr. MacCready and his wife, from Ireland. Mr. Janus, from Virginia, I believe. With his servant, Jones. Myself. And our guide. A military man, coincidently. A Colonel Ives. He professed to know a new, shorter route through the Nevada’s. Quite a route that was. Longer than the normal one. Impossible to travel. We worked very very hard. By the time of the first snowfall we were still one hundred miles from this place, that was November. Preceding though the snow was futile. We took shelter in a cave. Decided to wait until the storm had passed. The storm did not pass. The trails soon became impossible, and we had run out of food. We ate the Oxen. All the horses. Even my own dog. And that lasted us about a month. After that we turned to out belts, shoes, and roots we could dig up… but you know there’s no real nourishment in those. We remained famished. The day that Jones died I was out collecting wood. He had expired from malnourishment. And when I returned, the others were cooking his legs for dinner. Would I have stopped it had I been there? I don’t know. But I must say. When I stepped inside that cave… the smell of meat cooking… I thanked the lord! I thanked the lord! - Ravenous

More Ravenous

MP3: Damon Albarn – Boyd’s Journey (From The Ravenous Soundtrack)

Posted: September 12th, 2008 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: none

Oh, that glorious Wisconsin wilderness!

Everything new and pure in the very prime of the spring when Nature’s pulses were beating highest and mysteriously keeping time with our own!

Young hearts, young leaves, flowers, animals, the winds and the streams and the sparkling lake, all widely, gladly rejoicing together! - John Muir: The Story of My Boyhood and Youth

MP3: Townes Van Zandt – I’ll Be Here In The Morning

Posted: August 17th, 2008 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: 1

Never and never, my girl riding far and near
In the land of the hearthstone tales, and spelled asleep,
Fear or believe that the wolf in a sheepwhite hood
Loping and bleating roughly and blithely shall leap,
My dear, my dear,
Out of a lair in the flocked leaves in the dew dipped year
To eat your heart in the house in the rosy wood.

Sleep, good, for ever, slow and deep, spelled rare and wise,
My girl ranging the night in the rose and shire
Of the hobnail tales: no gooseherd or swine will turn
Into a homestall king or hamlet of fire
And prince of ice
To court the honeyed heart from your side before sunrise
In a spinney of ringed boys and ganders, spike and burn,

Here

MP3: Lovin Spoonful – Darling, Be Home Soon

Posted: August 13th, 2008 under Quotes/Poetry.
Comments: 1