I have loved Muir since childhood. Perhaps this poem was inspired in part by him experiencing the catastrophe of the loss of his childhood farm in Orkney at the age of 14, and thus, his idyll. Doubtless lucre was involved. This poem comes to my mind whenever great catastrophe strikes blindly at us as a society, as it did in 2008, and even more now. It may seem that lucre is not a foundational part of this crisis, however I believe that it was, in a way, and that betrayal was indeed at the heart of the story. Also, a great many will experience some form of the loss he did at that time, and for much the same reasons. In any case the sense of invincibility and ease shattered by a sudden, unexpected frailty, is of key relevance and resonance at this time.