What is art? Nature concentrated.

What is art? Nature concentrated.

Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?

Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?

I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech-tree, or a read more

I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech-tree, or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines.

I've made an odd discovery. Every time I talk to a savant I feel quite sure that happiness is no read more

I've made an odd discovery. Every time I talk to a savant I feel quite sure that happiness is no longer a possibility. Yet when I talk with my gardener, I'm convinced of the opposite.

Flowers are the sweetest things that God ever made and forgot to put a soul into

Flowers are the sweetest things that God ever made and forgot to put a soul into

Nature abhors annihilation.
[Lat., Ab interitu naturam abhorrere.]

Nature abhors annihilation.
[Lat., Ab interitu naturam abhorrere.]

You must not know too much or be too precise or scientific about birds and trees and flowers and watercraft; read more

You must not know too much or be too precise or scientific about birds and trees and flowers and watercraft; a certain free-margin, and even vagueness - ignorance, credulity - helps your enjoyment of these things.

The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often read more

The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it.

Nature... She pardons no mistakes. Her yea is yea, and her nay, nay.

Nature... She pardons no mistakes. Her yea is yea, and her nay, nay.