There is a muscular energy in sunlight corresponding to the spiritual energy of wind.

There is a muscular energy in sunlight corresponding to the spiritual energy of wind.

The law of nature is the strictest expression of necessity.

The law of nature is the strictest expression of necessity.

The grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower read more

The grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.

I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer. My bank of wild grass is majestic and full read more

I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer. My bank of wild grass is majestic and full of music. It is a fire that solitude presses against my lips.

Will urban sprawl spread so far that most people lose all touch with nature? Will the day come when the read more

Will urban sprawl spread so far that most people lose all touch with nature? Will the day come when the only bird a typical American child ever sees is a canary in a pet shop window? When the only wild animal he knows is a rat - glimpsed on a night drive through some city slum? When the only tree he touches is the cleverly fabricated plastic evergreen that shades his gifts on Christmas morning?

Now nature is not at variance with art, nor art with nature; they
being both the servants of his read more

Now nature is not at variance with art, nor art with nature; they
being both the servants of his providence. Art is the perfection
of nature. Were the world now as it was the sixth day, there
were yet a chaos. Nature hath made one world, and art another.
In brief, all things are artificial; for nature is the art of
God.

In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things. In physical terms, I move through read more

In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things. In physical terms, I move through them; yet in metaphysical ones, they seem to move through me.

To the artist there is never anything ugly in nature.

To the artist there is never anything ugly in nature.

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing read more

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.