These mountains, like all mountains, are written up by ecologists in a scientifico-pretentious kind of way, sort of like accountants talking to each other, in a distancing style that has by default become the way people talk about natural things now when they want to sound authoritative, which is a damn shame, in view of the fact that there is so much more involved than science and sounding authoritative.
I like the old mythological mystery ways, in which one could actually talk with mountains, as being more real, and far closer to the point, which is to unite us with our surrounds. Or sing the mountains, until you know them by heart. A mountain is a helluva lot more than rocks and trees, as everybody knows; yet that is what we are told to "save."
As if this whole thing were a Saturday matinee serial in which we were the heroes in white and the mountains (or the entire earth, no less!) were a fair damsel in distress, tied across some railroad tracks, as the great steaming, billowing juggernaut of civilization roars nearer, when of course it is the roaring juggernaut that will go off the tracks into the abyss...
No comments:
Post a Comment