The casual sightseer experiences the landscape as a series of moments dislocated from place. Zipping from one picturesque view to the next, they are enmeshed within a matrix of image and motion, a phantasmagoria that enters through their car window.
Walking offers a different kind of experience. A sense of place arises from a direct engagement with the landscape, by taking it on on it’s own terms, and navigating in it and through it. Walking allows one to disentangle, and empty out. The ego’s constant chatter is lost to the hollow thud of water coursing underground, it is overwhelmed by the vast spaces between, and silenced by its remote depth. When walking, there are only the hills, as they enter in every strained for breath.
