An untouched primeval forest produces an eerie sadness in human observers

Evidence

The gloom of the dense, ancient, silent forest is to me awe inspiring. On such an evening it is soundless, except for the branches creaking in the soft wind, the frequent snap of decayed timber, and a murmur in the pine tops as of a not distant waterfall, all tending to produce eeriness and a sadness “hardly akin to pain.” There no lumberer’s axe has ever rung. The trees die when they have attained their prime, and stand there, dead and bare, till the fierce mountain winds lay them prostrate. — Isabella L. Bird, A Lady’s Life in the Rocky Mountains, 107

Categorization

  • SEED: Her ‘sadness hardly akin to pain’ at entering a forest no axe has ever touched could anchor an essay on grief at human encroachment versus awe at untouched wild.
  • XREF: Her speechless awe and ‘sadness hardly akin to pain’ echo John Muir’s sublime-anxiety register in western wilderness writing and Macfarlane’s recent immersion accounts. — connects to: Atmosphere is objective; emotion arises from deviations from atmosphere — Byung-Chul Han, Psychopolitics: Neoliberalism and New…, 99; People can fear happiness and retreat to familiar grief-filled places — Moustafa Bayoumi, How Does It Feel to Be a Problem? Being…, 646

Broader Connections