We are now in the mountains and they are in us … 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, as if truly an inseparable part of it, thrilling with the air and trees, streams and rocks, in the waves of the sun, – a part of all nature, neither old nor young, sick nor well, but immortal. How glorious a conversion, so complete and wholesome it is. In this newness of life we seem to have been so always.
