Recommended music for the following thoughts and visuals.


Kahlil Gibran

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.


Bill Bryson

Hunters will tell you that a moose is a wily and ferocious forest creature. Nonsense. A moose is a cow drawn by a three-year-old.


Walt Whitman

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.


Carl Sagan

The very act of understanding is a celebration of joining, merging, even if on a very modest scale, with the magnificence of the cosmos. Science is not only compatible with spirituality; it is a profound source of spirituality.


Jelle Brandt Corstius

Since the beginning of time, nomadic people have roamed the earth. Looking for food, feeding their cattle. Looking for an existence, freedom. Living in the wild, mountains, deserts, on tundra and ice. With only a thin layer of tent between them and nature. Earth in the 21st century is a crowded place, roads and cities are everywhere. Yet somehow, these people hold on to traditions that go back to the very beginning of human civilization.


John Muir

Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out going to the mountains is going home; that wilderness is a necessity…


Emme Woodhull-Bäche

You need special shoes for hiking – and a bit of a special soul as well.


Who Knows?

May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.


Debbie Millman

The grand scheme of a life, maybe (just maybe), is not about knowing or not knowing, choosing or not choosing. Perhaps what is truly known can’t be described or articulated by creativity or logic, science or art – but perhaps it can be described by the most authentic and meaningful combination of the two poetry. As Robert Frost wrote, a poem “begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It is never a thought to begin with.


Simone de Beauvoir

To be oneself, simply oneself, is so amazing and and utterly unique an experience that it’s hard to convince oneself so singular a thing happens to everybody.


I had always perceived America as some vanilla home base, not something to be cherished and explored. Not something with its own hidden curiosities and adventures. There’s an entire world to sift through, I reasoned, and I had best start in the desert lands of northern Africa and the Indian peaks that touch nirvana and the perch-belly clouds. But these forests ooze Americana and it is infectious and romantic. Now that the fire in my American explorer is lit, I want to know every crevasse and rooted path of this country. I want to explore the cultural epicenter that is the South – I want to know the true history and origin of American food and music. I want to meditate over science and spirituality while sleeping in the Rockies, under the stars, and I want to roam the isolated fishing villages of the Alaskan frontier. I want to get utterly, hopelessly, impossibly lost, here and everywhere. What a country! What a world! Nothing to do about this, though, other than to sit, breathe and enjoy, until the world is in your palm and you can spin it with your finger, smile and say, “I’ve seen this place.”