Beyond the Wall: Essays from the Outside

by Edward Abbey

Eating my breakfast, such as it is, I take care not to drop crumbs on the ground. Don’t want to corrupt the ants. Let the little fuckers find their own food, as I did, in the supermarkets of Tucson, Arizona.

But it’s all still there in my heart and soul. The walk, the hills, the sky, the solitary pain and pleasure—they will grow larger, sweeter, lovelier in the days and years to come, like a treasure found and then, voluntarily, surrendered. Returned to the mountains with my blessing. It leaves a golden glowing on the mind.