The desert year
by Joseph Wood Krutch
Category: Science

Scenery, as such, never meant much to me. A city man to begin with, I never thought 'beauty spots' worth the trouble it took to go look at them. This mountain rises then thousand feet; that waterfall drops fifteen hundred. What, I replied inwardly, is to prevent it? A week later I had nothing in my mind which could not have got there via a picture postcard. A pot on the window sill or a gold fish on the desk meant more.