Sense of Here

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John Muir: on the ways of nature

Everything is connected

The sun is being played by clouds, lining the high points of fells with gold for brief moments. Here in the valley the light is bringing the subtlest of blues out of the black-white tumble of the beck. We’re very gently gaining height as we stroll up Greenburn, with the beck to our left and the bracken-covered fells towering on either side of us. 

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It has started. This evening I was standing at the ironing board flattening the hems on a piece of white cloth measuring 250x250cm. A blank canvas.

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