We are preoccupied with time. If we could learn to love space as deeply as we are now obsessed with time, we might discover a new meaning in the phrase to live like men. - Desert Solitaire
 
One afternoon, I received a call from a Utah Holiday Magazine writer that Ed Abbey was in the only (fern) bar in Salt Lake worth entering. The writer needed a photograph of Abbey. Showing up unannounced, I barged in unwanted; Abbey consented to my intrusion on his coversation with another environmentalist. I stayed less than 15 minutes making six photographs, since I understood Mr. Abbey was none too enthused with this idea. Because I'd not read any of his books nor any of his other writing that I was immediately aware of, I had nothing to add to the conversation. Excusing myself again, I packed up and was headed away when Mr. Abbey stood up, shook my hand, thanked me and warmly wished me well.
 
Years later I still can't state I've read much of his writing. Although the few I have were definately worth reading much sooner than I ever did. In his writing he lead others along, by illuminating the essential spirit of the time and that of the high deserts. As usual I had thought this was plain common sense; but by looking around today, you would never know it.