It seems wonderful that so frail and lovely a plant has such power over human hearts. this calypso meeting happened some forty-five years ago, and it was more memorable and impressive than any of my meetings with human beings excepting, perhaps, emerson and one or two others. when i was leaving the university, professor j. d. butler said, "john, i would like to know what becomes o you, and i wish you would write me, say once a year, so i may keep you in sight." i wrote to the professor, telling him about this meeting with calypso, and he sent the letter to an eastern newspaper [the boston recorder] with some comments of his own. these, as far as i know, were the first of my words that appeared in print.
explain how the bolded words above reveal muir's attitude about nature.

first of all the mood needs to be defined: it is obviously a mood of deceitful relief and serenity. why? because the cape horn is one of the most violent maritime regions of earth and although it has been left behind, it is a personification of ahab’s delirium and the fact that the end of the passage speaks about it about being “hidden” but “raving” immediately conveys the feeling the calm is not permanent but fleeting.

furthermore, the oxymoron “mild stun'sails” is the first instance of such feeling as the adjective “mild” is associated with “stunned” underscoring the fleeting nature of this “tranquil” moment. and the contrasts keep piling up, with the opposition between “dark den” and “blessed light and air” to end with the final conclusion that leaves the reader with the uneasy knowledge that this is just a reprieve.