By your late thirties the ground has begun to grow hard. It grows harder and harder until the day that it admits you.

The mountains paralleled the valley and the snowy peaks were extending with fall to the valley floor.

Angling is extremely time consuming. That's sort of the whole point.

By your late thirties the ground has begun to grow hard. It grows harder and harder until the day that it admits you.

It's funny, but... you're sort of a moving target for fortune, and you never know when it will befall you.

Young anglers love new rivers the way they love the rest of their lives. Time does not seem to be of the essence and somewhere in the system is what they are looking for.

To me, no painter has ever quite understood the light, the distances, the aboriginal ghostliness of the American West as well as Maynard Dixon. The great mood of his work is solitude, the effect of land and space on people. While his work stands perfectly well on its claims to beauty, it offers a spiritual view of the West indispensable to anyone who would understand it.