I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with the non-human world and yet somehow survives still intact, individual, separate. Paradox and bedrock.
-- Ed Abbey
The ragged sparks blew down the wind. The prairie about them lay silent. Beyond the fire it was cold and the night was clear and the stars were falling. The old hunter pulled his blanket about him. I wonder if there's other worlds like this, he said. Or if this is the only one.
-- Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian
10 Best of 2014
January: Wyoming and the Open
February: New Mexico and the Holes
Notes on The Accounts