You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be
wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself.
You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be
wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself.
"With all due respect for the wondrous ways people have invented to amuse themselves and one another on paved surfaces, I find that this exodus from the land makes me unspeakably sad. I think of the children who will never know, intuitively, that a flower is a plant's way of making love, or what silence sounds like, or that trees breathe out what we breathe in."
…the countryside knows in its heart that it is right. America's sustaining myths are rural ones: virtue resides in the soil, in the little house on the prairie, the lonely clapboard church, the one-room school, the small self-governing Puritan township. American writers, from Fenimore Cooper and Thoreau to Gary Snyder and Barry Lopez, have expended much eloquence on the theme that true wisdom is to be found in the woods, not in the arid intellectualism… of the city.
Like Britain (and unlike France or Italy) the US, despite producing at least two of the great cities of the world, is prone to see the city… as… a pustular, abnormal swelling on the fair face of the countryside… So it's hardly surpirsing that when the suburbs have to choose a side in the war at election time, they tend to declare themselves for the country and the mystical values that come with being so close to the smell of the woods and the footprints of the mountain lion. Suburbanites love to think that their little acre of tract housing is almost, if not quite, a farm (one of the most hallowed words in American mythology), and if farmers' property rights are threatened by the city, they'll go with the farmers every time.