Nan Shepherd on going barehanded and barefooted
From “The Living Mountain”: The hands have an infinity of pleasure in them. When I was a girl, a charming old gentlewoman said something to me that I have…
Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda
From “The Living Mountain”: The hands have an infinity of pleasure in them. When I was a girl, a charming old gentlewoman said something to me that I have…
from “The Living Mountain” by Nan Shepherd (previous Nan Shepherd posts here and here: Lower on the mountain, on all the slopes and shoulders and ridges and on the moors below, the…
Following on my page on Rogues, I have decided to create another page compiling my various posts on silence. Silence comes into a lot of my posts, sometimes obliquely, sometimes less…
Having disciplined mind and body to quiescence, I must discipline them also to activity. The senses must be used. For the ear, the most vital thing that can be listened…
Among drifts of these purple glowing birches, an occasional rowan looks dead; its naked boughs are a smooth white-grey, almost ghastly as the winter light runs over them. The rowan’s…