However, a small amount of tedium seems only right when one reads of travels taken over days, weeks, and months; of the obsessions and compulsions that could lead a visual artist like Richard Long to walk a straight line dozens of times over and over again to create that most ephemeral of works: a path in the desert sand. And what better way to tell the story of pathways and roads, treks and rambles than through a book that refuses the easy satisfactions of end points and destinations?
Aengus Woods, “My Eyes Are in My Feet: On Robert Macfarlane’s The Old Ways”
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