There was turtle. Turtle was alone and swam in the deeps of the sea. And none know what Turtle found there. And turtle is silent.
Hear now the anadrome song of the salmon sung in voiceless bubble chorus loud from source sweet to bitter sea
Somewhere in the Arizona desert, I pull the white whale to a crunching stop on a patch of roadside dirt, on the crest of a small hill, north of Paulden Arizona. “What are we doing out here?” “Is something wrong?” “Hey! What’s going on?” “Stars,” I say. "We have stopped to see the stars.”
Most people like to look at mountain rivers, and bear them in mind; but few care to look at the wind, though far more beautiful and sublime, and though they become at times about as visible as flowing water.
once We clambered down from the trees and stood upright, peering over the horizon with eyes like ripening apples,
Icy January day at Netarts. I was still recovering from the flu. The world was deadly grey and the cold had sucked the light out of the sky.
Eternal Father, strong to save, Whose arm hath bound the restless wave, Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep Its own appointed limits keep; Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee, For those in peril on the sea!