The bovids’ equivalent of a wolf boy.īeing with these wild animals was like prayer, a meditation that ranged from dopey to dreamy to absorption so profound, it stopped my blood. I wanted the bighorns to adopt me, a kind of reverse Bo Peep arrangement. “For most of the year, though, I was loyal to the, preternaturally attentive-how could anyone not be?-and shamelessly anthropomorphic. “I hope to make pictures like I walk in the desert-under a spell, an instinct of motion, a kind of knowing that is essentially indirect and sideways.” - The Anthropology of Turquoise Homo sapiens gangs up to 70 percent of its sense receptors solely for vision, to anticipate danger and recognize reward, but also-more so-for beauty.” - The Anthropology of Turquoise: Reflections on Desert, Sea, Stone, and Sky (2003)
It perceives seven to ten million colors through a synaptic flash: one-tenth of a second from retina to brain. Its beauty stirs the imagination, and I wonder if the last refuge of all that is truly wild lies not on earth but in light.” - Eating Stone: Imagination and the Loss of the Wild (2005) In mere seconds, the sea leaches the silver and deepens to vermilion. The water around the island turns from a silky sheen of aquamarine to burnished silver the color of the cuff bracelet of Navajo silver around my wrist, silver made lustrous by the warmth of flesh. “When the sun sets, the desert drains its dusk colors into the sea. The quotes below reveal what makes Meloy’s writing about nature, landscapes, history, and wilderness so stirring-her palpable love of place.
In Monday’s feature, Jane Hammons wrote movingly of the work of naturalist and nonfiction writer Ellen Meloy.
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