PREFACE<br > his is the story of several journeys， made in mid-life， to four<br > remarkable parts of the Earth. All the landscapes were， to<br > me， new and unfamiliar， so although I approach the places<br >with the discipline of a visual artist and amateur naturalist， these<br >pages do not recount old intimacies with beloved landscapes.<br >Rather， these are tales of greetings.<br > I will hazard that the dislocations that prompted and allowed<br >me to travel are a private instance of a transitional episode affecting<br >our species as a whole. Any individual search for sustaining coordi-<br >nates is linked to the conundrum of how humankind can make an<br >enduring， respectful， and delightful habitation--a home--within<br >our planet. These travels respond to an ancient， and newly urgent，<br > recognition: that the Earth is a whole， that no rivulet or marginal<br > field is outside our circle of concern. Naturally， none of us can tend，<br > or visit， or even begin to grasp， the immense particularities of this<br > planet， and often travel leads one toward modest plots， the water-<br > sheds of choice and fate. I immersed myself in the new and far-<br > flung landscapes of Belize， Orkney， the Everglades， and Greece<br > only to pose a question--what is right habitation?--and to listen for<br > such answers as each place has to give.<br > Traveling to ask about habitation， I soon found， encompasses<br > movement through more than physical space. By its very nature，<br > the question involves moving among intellectual traditions; hap-<br > pily， the genre of the travel essay， so acquainted with range， easily<br >