The hills on our side of the river were green, and on the other side they were blue. They got bluer farther away.
Uncle Burley said hills always looked blue when you were far away from them. That was a pretty color for hills; the little houses and barns and ﬁelds looked so neat and quiet tucked against them. It made you want to be close to them. But he said that when you got close they were like the hills you’d left, and when you looked back your own hills were blue and you wanted to go back again. He said he reckoned a man could wear himself out going back and forth.
[And a quote from later in the book:]
…Boy, we’ve let it all turn into talk.
From Nathan Coulter by Wendell Berry.