Que Sierra, Sierra!

Into each life, a mountain must rise. That may help explain the reason why, out of the blue, I suddenly turn green. With an ID as evidence of ecological advocacy somewhere in my trash-filled wallet, no kidding.

And so it's enough to raise your eyebrow, too, when I counted myself in as a member of an organization that wear its green heart on sleeves rolled for moving no less than mountains. Like trying to change a bit of the world. Ho-hum, you'd say.

But hand to my heart, I swear my membership in Sierra Club, cited as "America's Most Effective Enviromental Organization," is something I intend to go beyond merely a passing fancy. Don't look down on me now, but--who knows--this closet mountaineer might yet soon go beyond relishing long solitary walks and would finally have the chance to kick myself into joining a trek up, up, and away into the wilds?

It doesn't hurt either to receive the official Sierra Club 1892 Rucksack, similar to the ones used during the time of John Muir by the club's supporters during their exploration hikes over a hundred years ago.

Neither would it bruise what little remains of my scab-studded conscience to lift even a fingernail for something larger than one's self. Environmental issues, stuffs like that. Plus, I get also get the chance to do my share of sticking my thumb down at the face of Dubya Bush whose policies the Sierra Club and I share in loathing. So there goes the rub.

For whatever it's worth, here's some words by Muir: "This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on seas and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls."