So. I'm reading Travels in Alaska by John Muir, which I expected to be good. But I honestly didn't expect him to be such a beautiful writer. For being one of the great ecologists and environmentalists (not a word in his day, but oh well) of U.S. history, he sure can also use words. I wanted to share some of his odd mix of Thoreauishness mixed with actual interaction with nature. Here are two parts I like:
After a fellow climber had both his arms dislocated and Muir brought him down a glacier on the side of a mountain, foot by foot for about a half a day: "Here I took off one of my boots, tied a handkerchief around his wrist for a good hold, placed my heel in his arm pit, and succeeded in getting one of his arms into place." Jesus.
Before a mountain covered in glacier. "Standing here, with facts so fresh and telling and held up so vividly before us, every seeing observer, not to say geologist, must readily apprehend the earth-sculpturing, landscape-making action of flowing ice. And here too, one learns that the world, though made, is yet being made; that this is still the morning of creation; that mountains long conceived are now being born, channels traced for coming rivers, basins hollowed for lakes."
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