“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more clearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilization, and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints,” writes Robert Louis Stevenson in his Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes.
Night is the best time to be in the forest or in the field, away from the city and its restless denizens. “Night is a dead monotonous period under a roof; but in the open world it passes lightly, with its stars and dews and perfumes, and the hours are marked by changes in the face of Nature… All night long [the man who sleeps afield] can hear Nature breathing deeply and freely; even as she takes her rest she turns and smiles.” With some cold beer and some fine weather, a man could do far worse than to spend a night far from the city. Which is why I am going camping this weekend.
Travels with a Donkey describes Stevenson’s 12-day hike across the mountains of central France. I will have to settle for a weekend at a state park, and a few hours of highway driving to get there and back. So what if Stevenson’s trip has the advantages of greater leisure and more picturesque environs? I have the edge in a very important respect; while his trip was made in solitude, mine will be in “solitude made perfect.”
Stevenson lamented, “even while I was exulting in my solitude I became aware of a strange lack. I wished a companion to lie near me in the starlight, silent and not moving, but ever within touch. For there is a fellowship more quiet even than solitude, and which, rightly understood, is solitude made perfect. And to live out of doors with the woman a man loves is of all lives the most complete and free.”
Beer of the week: Melt My Brain – This beer comes from Short’s Brewing Company in Michigan, and from the word “go”, it was sure to be unique. The can advertises a “golden ale brewed with coriander, juniper berries and lime, with tonic water added.” It is the lime and the tonic that predominate, at the expense of the beer itself. The beer pours a very pale and slightly hazy yellow. Lime leads the aroma. The first note on the tongue is sticky sweetness. The sweetness is cut as the flavor develops, first by the tart lime and then by the lingering bitterness of piney hops and quinine. I can’t help but think that the tonic water is a big mistake; it adds way too much sugar. And, although I appreciate the distinctive bitterness of the quinine, I suspect that lime zest and/or more hops could be employed to similar effect. Or they could add quinine rather than whole tonic. (By the way, if you think that a G&T is a low calorie alternative to other cocktails, think again; tonic water has nearly as much sugar as a regular soda pop.) I appreciate the innovation, but Melt My Brain just is not for me.
Reading of the week: Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes by Robert Louis Stevenson – In this portion of the book, Stevenson describes a beautiful night spent sleeping in a pine forrest. His bespoke sleeping bag was made of “green waterproof cart cloth without and blue sheep’s fur within,” and he woke in the middle of the night to smoke a cigarette and study the color of the night sky. Almost makes me wish I smoked.
Question for the week: Does camping sharpen our appreciation for home, the way that Plato claimed we can only appreciate comfort by being relieved of some discomfort?
This is the thirty-seventh in a series on The Harvard Classics; the rest of the posts are available here. Volume XXXVII: Locke, Berkeley, Hume
It is shockingly easy to forget just how amazing our surroundings are. Every so often, one needs to be reminded to look on the natural world with awe. Consider this your periodic reminder, care of George Berkeley:
“Look! are not the fields covered with a delightful verdure? Is there not something in the woods and groves, in the rivers and clear springs, that soothes, that delights, that transports the soul? At the prospect of the wide and deep ocean, or some huge mountain whose top is lost in the clouds, or of an old gloomy forest, are not our minds filled with a pleasing horror? Even in rocks and deserts is there not an agreeable wildness? How sincere a pleasure is it to behold the natural beauties of the earth! To preserve and renew our relish for them, is not the veil of night alternately drawn over her face, and doth she not change her dress with the seasons? How aptly are the elements disposed! What variety and use in the meanest productions of nature! What delicacy, what beauty, what contrivance, in animal and vegetable bodies! How exquisitely are all things suited, as well to their particular ends, as to constitute opposite parts of the whole!”
So go outside with a beer and gaze in wonder at how the trees have changed from just a few weeks ago, how the clouds undulate in the sky like foam on a freshly poured beer, or how a stream’s flow is both constant and ever-changing.
Beer of the week: Avalanche Amber Ale – An avalanche is a terrifying and devastating event, but it also has something of a Berkeley’s “pleasing horror.” Avalanche Amber Ale is not terrifying, but it is terrific. It pours with a fluffy tan head atop a dark amber beer. On the nose are bread and caramel. This ale has a surprisingly light mouthfeel and just enough hops to balance out the plentiful malt. Breckenridge seems to know what they are doing.
Reading of the week: Three Dialogues Between Hylas and Philonous by George Berkeley – This short excerpt from the Second Dialogue comes at the end of Philonous’ argument that matter does not exist except in the perception. Just as Hylas has been wrangled into accepting the position that material has no existence independent of humans, Philonous pulls the rug out from under him and declares that material does exist because it is constantly perceived by God.
Question for the week: Where do you look for natural beauty?