A Writer's Ruminations

"As I walked I looked at the dark basalt hills, and at the cactus and shrubs and trees; all of them were in harmony with one another, and I felt within that beauty. In an instant I saw that even man-made things—the roll of old fence wire, the old rail ties withered by sixty years of the heat and sun—were in the light of that beauty. In that beauty we all will sink slowly back into the lap of the earth."

— Leslie Marmon Silko, The Turquoise Ledge