Do you really want to know the effective way to save a place? Well, the first and foremost step is to get to know that place intimately. This involves spending quality time walking through it from one end to the other, conducting in-depth studies, and gradually beginning to understand the valuable lessons it has to offer. Wendell undertakes hikes through Kentucky's Red River Gorge. As an advocate for the preservation of this wilderness area, he vividly describes what he witnesses during his journey. Ralph Eugene Meatyard, on the other hand, provides strikingly beautiful photographs that perfectly accompany Wendell's narrative. Their combined efforts result in a powerful voice that has played a crucial and significant part in safeguarding these 26,000 acres of wilderness area and the magnificent river gorge from being flooded permanently by a proposed man-made lake. Their work serves as an inspiration for all those who care about the protection of our precious natural habitats.

Bless Ralph Eugene Meatyard's heart.

He was a remarkable figure, his work leaving an indelible mark on the world of photography. His unique vision and artistic style captured the essence of life in a way that was both profound and captivating.

And Wendell Berry's, too. His words have the power to touch the soul and make us think deeply about the world around us. His writing is a beautiful blend of poetry and prose, exploring themes of nature, community, and the human condition.

Together, these two individuals have contributed to our understanding and appreciation of the world in their own special ways. Their work serves as an inspiration to us all, reminding us to look for the beauty and meaning in the ordinary.

We are truly fortunate to have had the opportunity to experience their art and ideas, and we should continue to celebrate and honor their contributions for years to come.

This book is a truly fabulous treatise on wilderness and our society.

It delves deep into the complex relationship between the untamed natural world and the modern, civilized society we have built.

The author explores how our perception and understanding of the wilderness have evolved over time, and how this has influenced our actions and policies.

Through vivid descriptions and thought-provoking analysis, the book takes the reader on a journey through the wild places of the world, highlighting their beauty, importance, and vulnerability.

It also examines the ways in which our society has encroached upon and damaged these areas, and offers suggestions for how we can better protect and preserve them for future generations.

Overall, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in the environment, nature, or the future of our planet.

Classic Wendell Berry. Never disappoints!

His works always have a unique charm that can deeply touch the hearts of readers. This particular book, in some aspects, is very specific to the Red River Gorge in Tennessee. It vividly描绘s the beautiful landscapes, the unique geological features, and the rich ecological environment of that area. The detailed descriptions make readers仿佛able to imagine themselves standing in the midst of that magnificent gorge, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the natural beauty.

However, in other ways, the book is placeless. It explores universal themes such as the relationship between humans and nature, the importance of community, and the search for meaning in life. These themes are relevant not only to the Red River Gorge but to all of us, regardless of where we live. Through Berry's writing, we are reminded of the need to respect and protect the natural world, to build strong and supportive communities, and to find purpose and fulfillment in our lives. Overall, this book is a wonderful read that combines the specific and the universal, making it a truly engaging and thought-provoking work.

The place as it was is gone, and we are gone as we were.

We will never be in that place again.

Rejoice that it is dead, for having received that death, the place of next year, a new place, is lying potent in the ground like a deep dream.

This beautiful passage makes us reflect on the passage of time and the changes that come with it.

The old place holds memories, but it is now a part of the past.

As we look forward to the new year, we should embrace the unknown and the potential that lies within it.

Just like a deep dream, the new place is full of possibilities and opportunities.

Happy New Year everybody!

Let us welcome the new year with open hearts and minds, ready to explore and create a new and wonderful place for ourselves.

May this new year bring us joy, love, and success in all that we do.

The Unforeseen Wilderness: Kentucky's Red River Gorge is a remarkable work by Wendell Berry, with photos by Ralph Eugene Meatyard. Published by North River Press in 1991 (917.692), it offers a unique perspective on the natural beauty of Kentucky. I was drawn to this book because Shelby Lee Adams recommended Ralph Meatyard as one of his photographic influences. The photos in this collection are predominantly of water landscapes and mountain streams, which capture the essence of the wilderness. However, while the images are visually appealing, I found myself giving it a rating of 5/10. The reason for this is that, although the photos are beautiful, they lack a certain depth and complexity that would have made the collection truly outstanding. Nevertheless, I finished reading this book on 8/29/11 and it has left me with a greater appreciation for the natural beauty of Kentucky.

It is the same here as with the other books recommended.

In the extreme black and white contrasts, Berry shows a remarkable trust that he will get it right with the hepaticas.

The work of the river on the gorge is not something to be guarded against. Instead, we can relax and float on the prose.

As we read, we are carried along by the gentle flow of Berry's words, much like a boat on a calm river.

The beauty of his descriptions allows us to lose ourselves in the story and forget about the outside world.

Whether it is the vivid images of nature or the complex emotions of the characters, Berry's prose has the power to transport us to another place and time.

So, sit back, relax, and let the prose of this book carry you away.

A little-known book penned by Wendell Berry in 1969 (commissioned by the Univ. of Kentucky) aimed to thwart a plan to dam the Red River in Kentucky.

His detailed account of the Gorge area, along with accompanying photos, achieved their intended purpose. Eventually, in 1993, Bill Clinton declared it a federally protected area, putting an end to the Army Corps of Engineers' plan to dam it. This book showcases Berry's interests and talents splendidly. It focuses on a specific place that he highly values. The various chapters explore the location from his diverse perspectives, including nature description and cultural commentary. (He doesn't present us with poetry or fictional storytelling.)

His descriptions of the area struck a chord with me as they sounded very familiar. It is in the Daniel Boone National Forest. I spent three summers living in Eastern Kentucky in the mid-1970s, in an area surrounded by a more southern portion of the Boone National Forest. And it bears some resemblance to the area where I live, on the edge of the Jefferson National Forest. When I was in Kentucky, I knew an old man named Jack Clark, who was in his 80s. He lived on land that boasted an incredible rock formation, a sort of overhang/cave. His land was separated from the highway by a train track, making access extremely difficult. He was wary of outsiders as he feared they would seize his land. He had nothing to fear from us (the Appalacia Service Project), but many years after his death, I found out that the state had decided to "improve" and "straighten out" the highway. Now, it's hard to determine if this formation still exists. More than 40 years after the book's publication, Berry's specific concern appears to have been safeguarded, but those familiar with his broader concerns are aware that they remain very much in doubt. Thank God for modern-day prophets.

**Title: The Importance of Contrast in Various Aspects**

Contrast plays a crucial role in many aspects of our lives. In art, it helps to create visual interest and emphasis. By using contrasting colors, textures, and shapes, artists can make certain elements stand out and draw the viewer's attention. For example, a bright red object against a dark background will immediately catch the eye.

In literature, contrast is used to develop characters and themes. Authors may contrast the personalities, actions, or beliefs of different characters to highlight their differences and create conflict. This can make the story more engaging and thought-provoking.

In photography, contrast is essential for creating a dynamic and impactful image. By adjusting the contrast between light and dark areas, photographers can add depth and dimension to their photos. A high-contrast image will have more pronounced shadows and highlights, while a low-contrast image will be more subdued and柔和.

In conclusion, contrast is a powerful tool that can be used in many different fields to enhance the visual and emotional impact of a work. Whether it's in art, literature, or photography, contrast helps to make things more interesting, engaging, and memorable.

I visited the Gorge this summer, and it was truly an unforgettable experience. So, when I came across this article, it felt like a timely read. It delved into many issues that really spoke to me. For instance, it talked about the busyness of modern life. In today's fast-paced world, we are constantly on the go, rushing from one thing to another. We are so caught up in this speed that we often miss out on the simple pleasures of life. We don't take the time to stop and smell the flowers, to enjoy the beauty of nature, or to have a meaningful conversation with a loved one.

I also loved the quote in the article: "I see little hope that I will ever live a day as an optimist, still I am not desperate." It made me think about how we often have a negative outlook on life, but we don't have to be. Even though we may not be full of hope and optimism all the time, we can still choose to find joy and meaning in the present moment. We can learn to appreciate the good things in our lives, no matter how small they may be.

This article really made me reflect on my own life and how I can slow down and be more present. It reminded me that there is so much more to life than just the hustle and bustle. I will definitely be taking these lessons to heart and trying to make some positive changes in my life.

There is something suicidal, and even more sinister than that, in this pursuit of easy wealth and quick answers.

It sets goals that are dead ends, where imagination and desire are limited.

Once the precious silver vein is discovered, or the speculation in land, minerals, or timber pays off, our human work is supposed to be over.

We believe we will have escaped forever the drudgery of the plow or the office.

But if we have destroyed within ourselves the ability to enjoy work, which inevitably happens when we work towards the goal of escaping work, then how can we possibly enjoy leisure?

Though I am physically here, my mind and nerves are not entirely present.

We seem to make the rather thoughtless assumption that people can change places as quickly as their bodies can be transported on high-speed roads and airlines.

However, as my own experience constantly proves, this is not true.

Our senses were developed to function at walking speeds, and the transition from foot travel to motor travel has been abrupt in terms of evolutionary time.

The faster one goes, the more strain there is on the senses, the less they can take in, the more confusion they must endure or ignore, and the longer it takes to bring the mind to a stop in the presence of anything.

The man who walks into the wilderness is truly naked.

He leaves behind his work, his household, his duties, his comforts - even, if he comes alone, his words.

He immerses himself in what he is not.

It is a kind of death.

Even here, where the economy of life is truly an economy - where creation is still fully alive, continuous, and self-enriching, and where whatever dies directly enters the life of the living - one cannot completely escape the sense of an impending human catastrophe.

One cannot come here without being aware that this is an island surrounded by the machinery and workings of an insane, greedy civilization, hungering for the world's end - that ours is a "civilization" symbolized not by the work of any builder or artist, nor by the life of any good person, but rather by the bulldozer, the poison spray, the hugging fire of napalm, and the cloud of Hiroshima.

For years now, it has seemed to me that the actions of men no longer occur within nature, but that the natural places that the human economy has so far spared now survive almost accidentally within the actions of men.

I thought of it then as a strange place, strange to me.

The presumptuousness of that, I now realize, is probably a key to the destructiveness that has characterized the entire history of the white man's relationship with the American wilderness.

For it is entirely presumptuous to enter a place for the first time and declare it strange.

Strange to whom? Certainly not to its own creatures - to the birds, animals, insects, fish, snakes, and the human family that I know lives knowingly and lovingly there - it is not strange.

To them, as to the Indians who once lived in its caves and in the bottomlands near its creek mouths, it is daily reality, ordinary stuff.

To call a place strange in the presence of its natives is at best bad manners.

At worst, it partakes of the fateful arrogance of those explorers who familiarize the "strange" places they come to by planting in them the alien flag of the place they have left, and who have always been followed by the machinery of conquest, exploitation, and destruction.

Berry has an intense affection for Kentucky. His passion is so palpable that it can make one feel a tinge of guilt for simply being a tourist or taking photographs. However, I managed to overcome that initial feeling.

I suspect that Berry is just extremely confident in what he believes to be right. Maybe his deep connection to Kentucky gives him a sense of authority and a desire to protect what he holds dear. It's understandable to some extent.

But at the same time, tourism and photography can also bring many benefits. They can help promote the beauty and charm of Kentucky to the outside world, attracting more people to visit and appreciate its unique qualities.

Perhaps Berry could find a way to balance his love for Kentucky with a more open attitude towards those who come to experience it in their own way. After all, different perspectives can often enrich our understanding and appreciation of a place.