Early in the 1990s, I flew alone in a dandelion-yellow, single-engine, 180-horsepower Piper Cherokee from Westchester County Airport in New York westward to the Rocky Mountains, landing and refuelling a good many times in middle-sized cities and towns along the way.

My first show at MoMA in New York was pictures of new developments along the eastern edge of the Rocky Mountains. They were housing developments that were brutal in many ways, that cared almost not a thing for the human beings inside. They were just designed to make money.

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains.

The view of the Rocky Mountains from the Divide near Kiowa Creek is considered one of the finest in Colorado.

The Rocky Mountains realize - nay, exceed - the dream of my childhood. It is magnificent, and the air is life-giving.

New York has more hermits than will be found in all the forests, mountains and deserts of the United States