In middle age I revisited a number of marginal but beautiful landscapes that I had taken for granted when I
was a boy. As I walked through them I sometimes asked myself whether in coming years they would survive overpopulation,
corporate capitalism, and new technology. On those days when I was lucky, however, my questions fell away into the quiet
and the light.
It has been many years now since I left Colorado, and occasionally friends there tell me of what has been lost. We share our griefs, but
not infrequently the conversation turns to recollecting scarcely believable glories—near miracles—and we pledge to look again.