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Sunset from my window: Florida has its charms!
However, last night, reading Peter Matthiesen, led me back to the Tetons with passages like this:
"The secret of the mountains is that the mountains simply exist, as I do myself: the mountains exist simply, which I do not. The mountains have no 'meaning,' they are meaning; the mountains are. I ring with life, and the mountains ring, and when I can hear it, there is a ringing we share . . . In the tent entrance . . . I watch the darkness rise out of the earth. The sunset fills the deepening blues with holy rays and turns a twilight raven into the silver bird of night as it passes into the shadow of the mountain."