off the blue highway

I'm reading William Least Heat Moon's wonderful Blue Highways. Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of the book is Moon's attention to and exposition of the particular features of a given space. As he drives along the blue highways, or walks out into the desert, or sits beside a stream, the reader is treated to a cornucopia of information about the flora and fauna of a specific area. About halfway through his journey he comments on a frequent assertion made about the Texas desert plains: there's nothing out there. Moon pulls over to the side of the road and then walks into the desert to test the hypothesis. He ends up counting in no time at all 30 signs of life, including earth, sky, and wind. About a week ago I reconnected with my friend Emil. We both talked about the joys of stopping at a random spot on a mountain hike and just being still and listening to and looking for what that place at that time was being. Reveling in the immensity of all that is not human, all that does not need us. It is a real pleasure to read an author with such an observant eye and solid knowledge of the natural world; someone who through those gifts and the painstaking craft of writing makes that world more visible.