A Walk in the Woods

Most of the time I am sunk in thought, but at some point on each walk there comes a moment when I look up and notice, with a kind of first-time astonishment, the amazing complex delicacy of the words, the casual ease with which elemental things come together to form a composition that is–whatever the season, wherever I put my besotted gaze–perfect.

There is no point in hurrying because you are not actually going anywhere. However far or long you plod, you are always in the same place: in the woods.

-Bill Bryson