Quotes About Nature

wild. With what it was like to walk for miles for no reason other than to witness the accumulation of trees and meadows, mountains and deserts, streams and rocks, rivers and grasses, sunrises and sunsets. The experience was powerful and fundamental. It seemed to me that it had always felt like this to be a human in the wild, and as long as the wild existed it would always feel this way.

With what it was like to walk for miles for no reason other than to witness the accumulation of trees and meadows, mountains and deserts, streams and rocks, rivers and grasses, sunrises and sunsets. The experience was powerful and fundamental. It seemed to me that it had always felt like this to be a human in the wild, and as long as the wild existed it would always feel this way.

Their leaving made me melancholy, though I also felt something like relief when they disappeared into the dark trees. I hadn't needed to get anything from my pack; I'd only wanted to be alone. Alone had always felt like an actual place to me, as if it weren't a state of being, but rather a room where I could retreat to be who I really was.

I was bypassing the High Sierra—missing Sequoia and Kings Canyon and Yosemite national parks, Tuolumne Meadows and the John Muir and Desolation wildernesses

But I had walked here, and I wasn't ready to give up on seeing the High Sierra just yet.

slices to the very heart of the hiker's volition,

bottle that was hot as tea. As I hiked, I moaned

The thing that would make me believe that hiking the Pacific Crest Trail was my way back to the person I used to be.

A caldera, it's called—a sort of mountain in reverse. A mountain that's had its very heart removed.

It had begun to occur to me that perhaps it was okay that I hadn't spent my days on the trail pondering the sorrows of my life, that perhaps by being forced to focus on my physical suffering some of my emotional suffering would fade away. By the end of that second week, I realized that since I'd begun my hike, I hadn't shed a single tear.

Alone had always felt like an actual place to me, as if it weren't a state of being, but rather a room where I could retreat to be who I really was. The radical aloneness of the PCT had altered that sense. Alone wasn't a room anymore, but the whole wide world, and now I was alone in that world, occupying it in a way I never had before.

Afterwards, I limped around gathering rocks and built a small crap cairn, burying the evidence before hiking on.

Bagby Hot Springs.

There is always a sunrise and always a sunset. It's up to you to be there for it, my mom said a million years ago, when she was alive. I rolled my eyes then, a million years ago. Now I live my life by it.

Oregón! —exclamó, y casi me dejé arrastrar por el júbilo de su voz, casi me llevó a creer que esos 320 kilómetros eran coser y cantar, pero de sobra sabía que no era así. Para mí, todas y cada una de las semanas en el sendero habían sido un suplicio. —Oregón —admití,

That perhaps being amidst the undesecrated beauty of the wilderness meant I too could be undesecrated, regardless of what I'd lost or what had been taken from me, regardless of the regrettable things I'd done to others or myself or the regrettable things that had been done to me.

A room with a view!" my mother exclaimed, though she was too weak to rise and see the lake herself. And then more quietly she said: "All of my life I've waited for a room with a view.

Hoe wild het is, om alles te accepteren zoals het zich voordoet.

Kennedy Meadows

Do you like to read?" Christine asked. "That's what we do when we come up here. That's our idea of relaxation.

perhaps being amidst the undesecrated beauty of the wilderness meant I too could be undesecrated, regardless of what I'd lost or what had been taken from me, regardless of the regrettable things I'd done to others or myself or the regrettable things that had been done to me. Of all the things I'd been skeptical about, I didn't feel skeptical about this: the wilderness had a clarity that included me.

I'd loved books in my regular, pre-PCT life, but on the trail, they'd taken on even greater meaning. They were the world I could lose myself in when the one I was actually in became too lonely or harsh or difficult to bear. When

Oregon. Oregon. Oregon.

What is hiking but walking, after all ?