“Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,

Healthy, free, the world before me,

The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.”

-Walt Whitman


“We finished clearing the last

Section of trail by noon,

High on the ridge-side

Two thousand feet above the creek.

Reached the pass, went on

Beyond the white pine groves,

Granite shoulders, to a small

Green meadow watered by the snow,

Edged with Aspen-sun

Straight high and blazing

But the air was cool.

Ate a cold fried trout in the 

Trembling shadows.  I spied

A glitter, and found a flake

Black volcanic glass- obsidian- 

By a flower.  Hands and knees

Pushing the Bear grass, thousands

Of arrowhead leavings over a

Hundred yards.  Not one good

Head, just razor-flakes.

On a hill snowed all but summer,

A land of fat summer deer,

They came to camp. On their

Own trails.  I followed my own

Trail here.  Picked up the cold-drill,

Pick, singlejack, and sack

Of dynamite.

Ten thousand years.”

-Gary Snyder


“Now I write by the light of the moon,

Though it is dim,

An orb half-full and growing, ever turning on its distant axis.

How long since I last saw snowfall?

It must have been a century since then,

The train rolling easy over the flat lands of North Dakota,

The world a fresh new slate of snow.

The same joy now inhabits my body that once inhabited me then,

When the old tall oaks were but fragile saplings,

When the rivers ran undammed through forests and hills,

When mountains once stood higher than men,

Proud and unconquered.

This is when I once was happy, and now it returns,

Everything comes full-circle, everything is cycles,

Just as the moon, half full and growing, fills the night,

It fills my soul and these very pages with inspiration,

And so it continues, forever.”

-Heather Milne


“I think heroic deeds were all conceiv’d in the open air, and all free poems also,

I think I could stop here myself and do miracles,

I think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever beholds me shall like me,

I think whoever I see must be happy.”

-Walt Whitman


“For it is the same indivisible divinity that is active through us and in Nature, and if the outside world were to be destroyed, a single one of us would be capable of rebuilding it: mountain and stream, tree and leaf, root and flower, yes, every natural form is latent within us, originates in the soul whose essence is eternity, whose essence we cannot know but which most often intimates itself to us as the power to love and create.”

-Herman Hesse, Demian


“Wasteland world

Bones and brittle branches

Break with weary footfalls

Sage saps sweet water from the earth

The sun sucks away what remains.


Flies in hectic orbit around me

Like electrons moving faster

Than they ought to move

Look for food among the wrinkles of my clothes

And dried out crevices of dirty skin.


Dust dares the air to dance

They swell up together from the ground

In sweeping spirals they rise

I take them in

They fill my lungs in equal parts.”

-Heather Milne


“Wind whistling through her hat

She climbs

She reaches for the summit

She can touch it

With her finger

In the air.”

-Heather Milne


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