Louis l’Amour’s book “Ride the Dark Trail” has a number of perceptive lines. Here’s an excerpt and my overly wordy comment:

“… here and there just plain looking and seeing what you look at has taught me something. Also, whilst never much of a hand to go to the mat with a book, I’m a good listener.”

To me, this is a brilliant comment on sensation (looking, hearing) and perception (seeing what you look at, good listener) – about paying attention, somewhere between general alertness and zen-type focus. It is something learned or absorbed when spending time alone – sometimes forgotten but later remembered. True even for short periods, something nearly impossible (for me) in the city or near busy roads. Growing up where I did, paying attention, whether to what I was “supposed to” or to what I actually found more interesting, was just the point of being out there. For many of Louis l’Amour’s characters, certainly most if not all of the Sacketts from the mountains of Tennessee, it came naturally.

His novels are far deeper than a lot of people seem to recognize – good stories, pretty good moralizing for the times covered and for now, sure – but a whole lot about a way of living that is slip-sliding away but was and to some extent is still intensely important, vital to meaningful thought. Without connection to things as they are, thinking easily goes astray. It could easily be said (by me) that much of what we call ‘philosophy’ comes under that latter description.