Anything Is Bearable If You Can Make

They Have Assumed The Names And Gestures Of Their Enemies, But Have Held On To Their Own, Secret Souls; And In This There Is A Resistance And An Overcoming, A Long Outwaiting.

The Character Of The Landscape Changes From Hour To Hour, Day To Day, Season To Season. Nothing Of The Earth Can Be Taken For Granted; You Feel That Creation Is Going On In Your Sight. You See Things In The High Air That You Do Not See Farther Down In The Lowlands. In The High Country All Objects Bear Upon You, And You Touch Hard Upon The Earth. From My Home I Can See The Huge, Billowing Clouds; They Draw Close Upon Me And Merge With My Life.

I Am Interested In The Way That We Look At A Given Landscape And Take Possession Of It In Our Blood And Brain. None Of Us Lives Apart From The Land Entirely; Such An Isolation Is Unimaginable. If We Are To Realize And Maintain Our Humanity, We Must Come To A Moral Comprehension Of Earth And Air As It Is Perceived In The Long Turn Of Seasons And Of Years.

Words Were Medicine; They Were Magic And Invisible. They Came From Nothing Into Sound And Meaning. They Were Beyond Price; They Could Neither Be Bought Nor Sold.

The Landscape Of The American West Has To Be Seen To Believed And Has To Be Believed To Be Seen.