|Barry Lopez [Willamette Week]|
from Barry Lopez's Winter Count:
"I have no idea," he had told her once, "why I long to be in that landscape, but I do. Maybe it is only being alone, infinitesimal. I can look at a whimbrel, the long-legged, hesitating movement, as if the bird were waiting for thoughts to enter its mind, and understand why in that vast tundra it chooses as it does precisely one lonely place to sit."