Jeff SmithAnyone else read Sigurd F. Olson’s books?
He helped establish the Boundary Waters at the border of Minnesota and Canada, Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, and Point Reyes National Seashore.
I love his writing and try to revisit his books on a regular basis.
This is one of my favorite passages - from The Singing Wilderness, Chapter 9 - Silence
It was before dawn, that period of hush before the birds had begun to sing. The lake was breathing softly as in sleep; rising and falling, it seemed to me to absorb like a great sponge all the sounds of the earth. It was a time of quiet -- no wind rustling the leaves, no lapping of the water, no calling of animals or birds. But I listened just the same, straining will all my faculties toward something -- I knew not what -- trying to catch the meanings that were there in that moment before the lifting of the dark.
Standing there alone, I felt alive, more aware and receptive than ever before. A shout or a movement would have destroyed the spell. This was a time for silence, for being in pace with ancient rhythms and timelessness, the breathing of the lake, the slow growth of living things. Here the cosmos could be felt and the true meaning of attunement.
I once climbed a great ridge called Robinson Peak to watch the sunset and to get a view of the lakes and rivers below, the rugged hills and valleys of the Quetico-Superior. When I reached the bald knob of the peak the sun was just above the horizon, a flaming ball ready to drop into the dusk below. Far beneath me on a point of pines reaching into the lake was the white inverted V of my tent. It looked very tiny down there where it was almost night.
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David J. Backes