wilderness

In a way that I haven__ yet figured out how to fully articulate, I believe that children who get to see bald eagles, coyotes, deer, moose, grouse, and other similar sights each morning will have a certain kind of matrix or fabric or foundation of childhood, the nature and quality of which will be increasing rare and valuable as time goes on, and which will be cherished into adulthood, as well as becoming- and this is a leap of faith by me- a source of strength and knowledge to them somehow. That the daily witnessing of the natural wonders is a kind of education of logic and assurance that cannot be duplicated by any other means, or in other place: unique and significant, and, by God, still somehow relevant, even now, in the twenty-first century. For as long as possible, I want my girls to keep believing that beauty, though not quite commonplace and never to pass unobserved or unappreciated, is nonetheless easily witnessed on any day, in any given moment, around any forthcoming bend. And that the wild world has a lovely order and pattern and logic, even in the shouting, disorderly chaos of breaking-apart May and reassembling May. That if there can be a logic an order even in May, then there can be in all seasons and all things.

To be commanded to love God at all, let alone in the wilderness, is like being commanded to be well when we are sick, to sing for joy when we are dying of thirst, to run when our legs are broken. But this is the first and great commandment nonetheless. Even in the wilderness - especially in the wilderness - you shall love him.

We walk alone in the wilderness.

The moment her hymen was plucked from her body in the wilderness, Her soul was taken from sanity.

Nature is an outcry, unpolished truth; the art__ euphemism__amed wilderness.

The mountains knew the definition of freedom. They provided a place where he could find his mind.

Sometimes I feel like I__ losing my mind,_ she said with a hintof sadness.__ou lost your mind a long time ago,_ he said seriously. She looked at him with indignation. __hat__ a compliment for anyone who knows the freedom and clarity of losing their mind,_ he reaffirmed her.

Their minds told them this life was not their own. This life was not the one designed for this body and soul. The truth of existence was a happiness separated from the easy happy life. There was music in the forest. There was clean air where nobody could hear him breathe.

At any time, and under any circumstances of human interest, is it not strange to see how little real hold the objects of the natural world amid which we live can gain on our hearts and minds? We go to Nature for comfort in trouble, and sympathy in joy, only in books. Admiration of those beauties of the inanimate world, which modern poetry so largely and so eloquently describes, is not, even in the best of us, one of the original instincts of our nature.

...returning to nature has been a dream present in the minds of every generation since mankind first left nature.

You are nothing but wilderness. No constraint. No mind.You shout the word__ind, mind, mind__ver and over and then you laugh, saying as I live and breathe, a slave by choice.

We rely only on God in the wilderness.

The wilderness is a place for spiritual rebirth.

In the wilderness, God performs His mighty miracles.

God determine the time and duration in the wilderness for every man.

A forest is not a wilderness, but a community of souls who speak to one another on the wind.

If Music is a Place -- then Jazz is the City, Folk is the Wilderness, Rock is the Road, Classical is a Temple.

The trees were friendly, they gave me rest and shadowed refuge. Slipping through them, I felt safe and competent. My whole body was occupied. I had little energy to think or worry.