One Must Live In The Middle Of

In Behaving Respectfully Toward All That The Land Contains, It Is Possible To Imagine A Stifling Ignorance Falling Away From Us.

If I Were To Offer Any Advice To Young Writers, It Would Be This: Be Discriminating And Be Discerning About The Work You Set For Yourself. That Done, Be The Untutored Traveler, The Eager Reader, The Enthusiastic Listener. Put What You Learn Together Carefully, And Then Write Thoughtfully, With Respect Both For The Reader And Your Sources.

Would The Last Animal, Eating Garbage And Living On The Last Scrap Of Land, His Mate Dead, Would He Still Forgive You?

My Faith Is In My Colleagues. And When I Meet Other Writers, Journalists, Who've Been Doing This For A Long Time, Trying To Make Us Aware Of What It Is That We're Living In, I Put My Faith In Those People.

When We Enter The Landscape To Learn Something, We Are Obligated, I Think, To Pay Attention Rather Than Constantly To Pose Questions. To Approach The Land As We Would A Person, By Opening An Intelligent Conversation. And To Stay In One Place, To Make Of That One, Long Observation A Fully Dilated Experience. We Will Always Be Rewarded If We Give The Land Credit For More Than We Imagine, And If We Imagine It As Being More Complex Even Than Language. In These Ways We Begin, I Think, To Find A Home, To Sense How To Fit A Place.