There Is A Leisure About Walking, No

October Is The Fallen Leaf, But It Is Also A Wider Horizon More Clearly Seen. It Is The Distant Hills Once More In Sight, And The Enduring Constellations Above Them Once Again.

A Frontier Is Never A Place; It Is A Time And A Way Of Life.

All Walking Is Discovery. On Foot We Take The Time To See Things Whole.

I Grew Up In Those Years When The Old West Was Passing And The New West Was Emerging. It Was A Time When We Still Heard Echoes And Already Saw Shadows, On Moonlit Nights When The Coyotes Yapped On The Hilltops, And On Hot Summer Afternoons When Mirages Shimmered, Dust Devils Spun Across The Flats, And Towering Cumulus Clouds Sailed Like Galleons Across The Vast Blueness Of The Sky. Echoes Of Remembrance Of What Men Once Did There, And Visions Of What They Would Do Together.

The Ultimate Wisdom Which Deals With Beginnings, Remains Locked In A Seed. There It Lies, The Simplest Fact Of The Universe And At The Same Time The One Which Calls Faith Rather Than Reason.