Some passages jump out at you when you read them.
They do.
If you have ever written much of anything, you know what I am talking about.
You come across something and your immediate reaction is along the lines of: “Wow, I wish I had written that.”
Sometimes a passage might bring back an old memory, or it might simply begin to move from narrative description to poetry.
I find passages like this frequently with Cormac McCarthy and Ernest Hemingway.
This is another one of those passages for me.
“And if these mountains had eyes, they would wake to find two strangers in their fences, standing in admiration as a breathing red pours its tinge upon earth’s shore. These mountains, which have seen untold sunrises, long to thunder praise but stand reverent, silent so that man’s weak praise should be given God’s attention.”
–Donald Miller, Through Painted Deserts
