The Beauty of the Hills

Oh, the beauty of hills, as they rise and fall,
Kisses the horizon with colors that chase
The dawn and the dusk, where shadows enthrall,
In nature’s embrace, there’s a soft, sweet grace.

The valleys and crests, draped in whispering green,
Tell stories of ages, of life that abides;
Each pebble, each bough, each glistening sheen
Is a note in the ballad that time provides.

Let me wander the hills where my spirit runs free,
In this vast land of wonders, my heart may soar;
For the beauty of hills, as pure as can be,
Calls us ever closer to nature’s true core.

— John Muir

• John Muir