“Over the summit, I saw the so-called Mono desert lying dreamily silent in the thick, purple light—a desert of heavy sun-glare beheld from a desert of ice-burnished granite.”
More from John Muir
“The rugged old Norsemen spoke of death as Heimgang—home-going. So the snow-flowers go home…”
“This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at…”
“The wrongs done to trees, wrongs of every sort, are done in the darkness of ignorance and…”
“Sit down in climbing, and hear the pines sing.”