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. . . To him who has once tasted the reckless independence, the haughty self-reliance, the sense of irresponsible freedom, which the forest life engenders, civilization thenceforth seems flat and stale. Its pleasures are insipid, its pursuits wearisome, its conventionalities, duties, and mutual dependence alike tedious and disgusting. The entrapped wanderer grows fierce and restless, and pants for breathing-room. His path, it is true, was choked with difficulties, but his body and soul were hardened to meet them; it was beset with dangers, but these were the very spice of his life, gladdening his heart with exulting self-confidence, and sending the blood through his veins with a livelier current. The wilderness, rough, harsh, and inexorable, has charms more potent in their seductive influence than all the lures of luxury and sloth. And often he on whom it has cast its magic finds no heart to dissolve the spell, and remains a wanderer and an Ishmaelite to the hour of his death.
Francis Parkman

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Labor Day Huckleberry Picking.

With the cooler summer and wet spring the berries were large this year. We had to go up in elevation to get into the ripe berries, about 5,000 ft this weekend. We found them in abundance on the Fish Butte road.
Quentin and William helping Jeff by eating what he picks.

Berries on a bush with leaves turning fall colors.


A catapiller resting on a Berry branch.

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