I Think In Any Writing You're Paying

In The Clearness Of This Himalayan Air, Mountains Draw Near, And In Such Splendor, Tears Come Quietly To My Eyes And Cool On My Sunburned Cheeks. This Is Not Mere Soft-mindedness, Nor Am I All That Silly With The Altitude. My Head Has Cleared In These Weeks Free Of Intrusions- Mail, Telephones, People And Their Needs- And I Respond To Things Spontaneously, Without Defensive Or Self-conscious Screens. Still, All This Feeling Is Astonishing: Not So Long Ago I Could Say Truthfully That I Had Not Shed A Tear In Twenty Years.

Illuminated By The Same Joyful Curiosity And Erudition, Lyric Writing, And Plain Love Of Life That Made A Classic Of Archie Carr's The Windward Road.

In Zazen, One Is One's Present Self, What One Was, And What One Will Be, All At Once.

Alec Wilkinson Is A Spare, Clear, And Lucid Writer Who Works In Stylistic Simplicity With Material That Is Not Simple At All.

The Concept Of Conservation Is A Far Truer Sign Of Civilization Than That Spoilation Of A Continent Which We Once Confused With Progress.