"My fire squirmed and struggled as if ill at ease, for though in a sheltered nook, detached masses of icy wind often fell like icebergs on top of it, scattering sparks and coals, so that I had to keep well back to avoid being burned. But the big resiny roots and knots of the dwarf pine could neither be beaten out nor blown away, and the flames, now rushing up in long lances, now flattened and twisted on the rocky ground, roared as if trying to tell the storm stories of the trees they belonged to, as the light given out was telling the story of the sunshine they had gathered in centuries of summers."

📜 John Muir, My First Summer In The Sierra, 1896
🎨 Frederick Remington, The Hunters' Supper, 1909

"Witness the land and sea enriching with prodigal hand the tranquil South."

🎨 James Owen Mahoney Jr, South Texas, 1936