The wind that makes music in November corn is in a hurry. The stalks hum, the loose husks whisk skyward in half-playing swirls, and the wind hurries on.... A tree tries to argue, bare limbs waving, but there is no detaining the wind.

If in a city we had six vacant lots available to the youngsters of a certain neighborhood for playing ball, it might be "development" to build houses on the first, and the second, and the third, and the fourth, and even the fifth, but when we build houses on the last one, we forget what houses are for.

The rich diversity of the world's cultures reflects a corresponding diversity in the wilds that gave them birth.

It is in midwinter that I sometimes glean from my pines... a curious transfusion of courage.

Land is not merely soil, it is a fountain of energy flowing through a circuit of soils, plants and animals.

To those devoid of imagination a blank place on the map is a useless waste; to others, the most valuable part.

Thus far we have considered the problem of conservation of land purely as an economic issue. A false front of exclusively economic determinism is so habitual to Americans in discussing public questions that one must speak in the language of compound interest to get a hearing.