I Do Not Think There Is Any

The Disciples Are Drawn To The High Altars With Magnetic Certainty, Knowing That A Great Presence Hovers Over The Ranges ... You Were Within The Portals Of The Temple ... To Enter The Wilderness And Seek, In The Primal Patterns Of Nature, A Magical Union With Beauty.

Yosemite Valley, To Me, Is Always A Sunrise, A Glitter Of Green And Golden Wonder In A Vast Edifice Of Stone And Space. I Know Of No Sculpture, Painting Or Music That Exceeds The Compelling Spiritual Command Of The Soaring Shape Of Granite Cliff And Dome, Of Patina Of Light On Rock And Forest, And Of The Thunder And Whispering Of The Falling, Flowing Waters. At First The Colossal Aspect May Dominate; Then We Perceive And Respond To The Delicate And Persuasive Complex Of Nature.

We All Know The Tragedy Of The Dustbowls, The Cruel Unforgivable Erosions Of The Soil, The Depletion Of Fish Or Game, And The Shrinking Of The Noble Forests. And We Know That Such Catastrophes Shrivel The Spirit Of The People... The Wilderness Is Pushed Back, Man Is Everywhere. Solitude, So Vital To The Individual Man, Is Almost Nowhere.

Notebook. No Photographer Should Be Without One!

I Tried To Keep Both Arts Alive, But The Camera Won. I Found That While The Camera Does Not Express The Soul, Perhaps A Photograph Can!