Never thought I'd like Ed Abbey.
My neighbor, an environmentalist, liked him but I had to survive at the time on the publicity of Abbey that made its way east.
The publicity wasn't good. . . I never liked the "monkey wrenching" element of it.
I suspect he valued his freedom, however.
Freedom from officials that intruded on his space.
Freedom from the effects of our political system. That was probably tough to do as head ranger at Organ Pipe National Monument on the border with Mexico and his employer was the US Government.
He came to terms, however.
I'll have to, also...
Come to terms with the fact that big guys with guns now patrol this area. That they have every reason to intrude on my small patch of the Southwest. That they can demand I talk to them, smile and imply that if I don't do what they say I'll be shot.
My small patch is filled with images at sunset, places I'd like to wander at dawn, quiet places except for the hum of bees. I'd like to imagine it doesn't include big-guys-with-guns.