Be still my spirit, the excitement of peace in this place is indescribable, it may be mostly imagined excitement, but there is peace in my spirit, such immensity, so intense, seeing, feeling, sensing how it use to be those millennium ago, to have lived as the natives did, to have walked among the great trees, along a natural lake, across the face of cliffs, living life a season at a time, but alas, it has been a hundred and fifty years since the last native walk here in peace. Still, just over this ridge, or beyond that mountain, one can wander along too much used trails, whiteman's version of wilderness; modern whiteman's version is worse, making it too convenient to get here and stay here, the scenes, noise, smells of small communities, sort of camouflaged as part of nature, a feeble attempt to blend in with the back country, such is whiteman's abusive intrusion to not only build a road trail but a town as well, 'but if not for such' would I have ever known this peace, contradiction again, did the natives truly know this place as the wonderful place it is, without contradiction, back there (LA) between wealth and poor, here between genuine wilderness and LA, 'if not for the darkness of night, how can the light of day be known', no matter how impressive the land, if it were native home, it would be plain.

     Be still my spirit, that giant sequoia has stood in peace for two millennium, experiencing more living, standing in a single spot on earth, than the roaming creatures experience in generations of their wanderings, (what lacks in mobility, gains with time), the cliffs and valleys and falls and meadows, they all instill tranquillity and excitement, contradiction again, a quiet rush brought on by meadow grasses, with a lone tall fir and a boulder or two, the exhausting Zen of the day's climb, followed by quieting Tau of the sunset, moonrise, and night, the stroll along high sierra trail, the exhilaration of a new off trail discovery, a gentle glade at a bend in the river, water over rocks steeply cascading, primeval big tree forest with little second growth, primeval peace in the wilderness.

     Be still my spirit, this trail leads to other trails which lead on to ... only God knows what, more enticing vistas, more enchanting valleys, more fascinating falls, more spell casting solitude from which there is no return, miles and miles of wanderings through the never-ending maze of canyons, valleys, peaks, domes, living the natural, high life, on the high sierra trails, imagine a deep winter blizzard, alone, here, imagine a bear visitation, clawing air while sniffing food hanging from a limb, imagine being lost, in nowhere land, hearing Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, while pondering all the great classical thoughts of great classical men, Plato, Confucius, Job, Budda, all in a land they never knew but which contains their contemporaries, in the trees and falls and stone, such contradiction, all those great works of great men originated with civilization while wildness in nature breeds greater works of wonders. 

     Be excited spirit, I want to go back! I want to spend days, nights, weeks, months, seasons, years among my only friends. Happy solitude with the rocks, trees, creatures, canyons, valleys, mountains, meadows, they all talk to me, wind through tall pines, water over rocks, rustling of leaves by animals, more to me they talk than those who speak can but don't.

     Be anticipated spirit, I want to return! Let me live my life with you, let me stand as a giant tree, to let time bring life by, let me wander as a woodsie creature, to discover life as time permits, let me flow as water from mountain clouds to ocean bays, let me ....