We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us. Our flesh-and-bone tabernacle seems transparent as glass to the beauty about us, neither old nor young, sick or well, but immortal. I am a captive. I am bound. Love of pure unblemished Nature seems to overmaster and blur out of sight all other objects and consideration... As long as I live, I'll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I'll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I'll acquaint myself with the glaciers, and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can.
Along the way I stop to see
If I can find the why of me
The "who am I" that's deep inside
The real me that tries to hide
But out I peek so you can glimpse
Now and again, just by chance
The curtain slips, defenses down
And for a moment, there I am
The who, the how, the why of me
To all but God, a mystery.