A weird, lovely, fantastic object out of nature like Delicate Arch has the curious ability to remind us — like rock and sunlight and wind and wilderness — that out there is a different world, older and greater and deeper by far than ours, a world which surrounds and sustains the little world of men as sea and sky surround and sustain a ship. The shock of the real. For a little while we are again able to see, as the child sees, a world of marvels. For a few moments we discover that nothing can be taken for granted, for if this ring of stone is marvelous then all which shaped it is marvelous, and our journey here on earth, able to see and touch and hear in the midst of tangible and mysterious things-in-themselves, is the most strange and daring of all adventures.
            - Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire

 

            I watched the sun go down; the deserted island opposite me glowed rosily, happily like a cheek after a kiss. I heard the small songbirds returning drowsily to go to sleep, tired after a full day's hunting and singing. Soon the stars would rise to take their places one by one, and the wheel of night would begin to turn. Midnight would come, dawn would come, the sun would assuredly appear, and the wheel of day would commence its round.

            A divine rhythm. Seeds in the ground, birds, stars -- all obey. Only man lifts his hand in rebellion and wants to transgress the law and convert obedience into freedom. This is why he alone of all God's creatures is able to sin. To sin -- what does that mean? It means to destroy harmony.
- Nikos Kazantzakis, Report to Greco