A river, though, has so many things to say that it is hard to know what it says to each of us.

A mystery of the universe is how it has managed to survive with so much volunteer help.

Ahead and to the west was our ranger station - and the mountains of Idaho, poems of geology stretching beyond any boundaries and seemingly even beyond the world.

Probably most catastrophes end this way without an ending, the dead not even knowing how they died...,those who loved them forever questioning "this unnecessary death," and the rest of us tiring of this inconsolable catastrophe and turning to the next one.

One great thing about fly fishing is that after a while nothing exists of the world but thoughts about fly fishing

Slowly we became silent, and silence itself if an enemy to friendship.

As I get considerably beyond the biblical allotment of three score years and ten, I feel with increasing intensity that I can express my gratitude for still being around on the oxygen-side of the earth's crust only by not standing pat on what I have hitherto known and loved. While oxygen lasts, there are still new things to love, especially if compassion is a form of love.