In Thinking Like a Mountain, what I loved most was how he alluded to all creation moaning, and also how he personified the mountain throughout the whole story. I especially loved when the way he said, "..outburst of wild defiant sorrow, and of contempt for all the adversities of the world. Every living thing (and perhaps many a dead one as well) pays heed to that call." Just, beautiful.
Also, I've grown up around hunting, via my dad and brothers, my whole life and I never really thought much of it until recent years. I've been waring within myself concerning the subject because something about it does not sit well with me at all. Nothing bothers me more than killing for the sake of killing- I understand HAVING to eat- but, killing for sport leaves a horrible taste in my mouth, a contorted look on my face and over-emotional opinion flying every which way. (Which I understand may be somewhat controversial.) So, when he described how they started shooting the playing wolves and then watched the green fire die in her eyes, that got me all riled up.
Though he brought it together quite tightly in his concluding paragraph, "We all strive for safety, prosperity, comfort, long life, and dullness. The deer strives with his supple legs, the cowman with trap and poison, the statesman with pen, the most of us with machines, votes, and dollars, but it all comes to the same thing: peace in our time."
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