The outside is the only place we can truly be inside the world.

As Gabe continued to speak, he sounded to be a cheerful and intelligent person, two attributes I have commonly found associated with people who spend most of their time outdoors.-from New River, in the anthology AWAKE IN THE WORLD

Can you imagine a scenario, given our present circumstances, in which human life will actually survive and be here in a thousand years?

The trout is still with me, as are my memories. The future is somewhere between these two forces, but it lives in mystery. The river records to trail behind or before me, and covers everything as it flows. This mountain and this river are old, yet as I wade alone, they both appear young and new to me.

If you are lucky you will have the opportunity in your life to be owned by a good piece of land.

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

Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind,” she said with a hintof sadness.“You lost your mind a long time ago,” he said seriously. She looked at him with indignation. “That’s 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.

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

I often wonder what happened to those few I spent my youth in battle beside, those select individuals whom I was drawn to simply by coincidence, whom I joined forces with against an unknown future and a world so large that we depended upon each other because none of us knew a damn thing, and we were all so wise.

The trees show definitions of themselves subtly like the face of a man.

This was going to be difficult, because he enjoyed women, but all the ones he has known seemed to be sent as secret assassins on a mission to destroy his pride and ability.

This was going to be difficult, because he enjoyed women, but all the ones he has known seemed to have been sent as secret assassins on a mission to destroy his pride and ability.

The past and the future were starlight, seemingly so close, but forever out of reach. Eli felt that starlight, the infinity of knowing nothing but his finite existence.

There are places which exist in this world beyond the reach of imagination.

A man without enemies is a dishonest man.

I was disoriented by the idea that men should ever leave the forest.

When I returned to camp, they walked behind me on the trail, and we spoke not a word about getting skunked today, but rather talked about the days we returned with a stringer full of fish, and how we filleted them and the left the guts out for bears and eagles, and how those fish tasted fresh when we fried them over a fire.

What man does not seek the power of his dreams, and believe in his ability to match the grace of his illusions.

It occurred to me that no words by the tongue of man can express the simplicities of a quiet land, so I returned to the river.

If you have not touched the rocky wall of a canyon. If you have not heard a rushing river pound over cobblestones. If you have not seen a native trout rise in a crystalline pool beneath a shattering riffle, or a golden eagle spread its wings and cover you in shadow. If you have not seen the tree line recede to the top of a bare crested mountain. If you have not looked into a pair of wild eyes and seen your own reflection. Please, for the good of your soul, travel west.

The contemplative man always lives alone. Regardless of who may reside in his home, his is a solitary world.

I walked slowly to enjoy this freedom, and when I came out of the mountains, I saw the sky over the prairie, and I thought that if heaven was real, I hoped it was a place I never had to go, for this earth was greater than any paradise.

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.

Only lost photographs that were never taken know what my mind speaks of when we are alone together.

As the saturating colors of sun-life fade from sight, the ominous moon reaches out its long arm and applies the dark dyes of night.

My hands are flowing like sunlight. The shapes and colors are astounding. I don't understand these images that are empowering me. My brush touches the canvas like photons to the earth, and a new world develops, free from my control, yet intrinsically dependent upon me. I am sweating with elation. I have no idea what I am doing, or what it is my hands are trying to see. There is so much strength in this clarity I am overpowered by the independence of it.

I watched the surrounding landscape with great curiosity, and I wanted to discover the words that could describe all its unspoiled beauty.

We smoked fat cigars by the campfire and they tasted like wood and ash. The inhale and exhale was exciting. Blowing smoke rings in the calm forest air was followed by a deep swallow of cheap beer, and this too was exciting. There was no judgment in the wild, and so indulgences were plentiful. There were no regulators here and we were free to indulge in the deep intoxications that made our minds free.

Every falling leaf reminds me that I too will soon be separated from these trees. Trying to capture freedom is like trying to catch a falling leaf. Occasionally you may grab one out of the air and hold it in your hands, but now what?

There was a wildness inside him; someday he would capture it. Not to be tamed, but to be released. For only by understanding his mind could it be freed.