Childhood is a time of storing up perceptions. Impressions enter for the first time and come with corresponding emotions. Later life is not so full of these corresponding emotions as childhood is, is it? Things do not altogether glow with feeling; numbers, for example, lose their personalities. The matching up and sense and as a result the home of these is what Muir suggests here. He lived the distress of the chaotic moments of the early twentieth century, and longed for the atunement of his Edenic past: a father’s home, a mother’s voice, the unhurried sea, dreaming land, calm air, the shadows thrown away, his identity, assurance. Unostentatious and luminous.