To those whom the tree, the birds, the wildflowers represent only "locked-up dollars" have never known or really seen these things.

I see, when I bend close, how each leaflet of a climbing rose is bordered with frost, the autumn counterpart of the dewdrops of summer dawns. The feathery leaves of yarrow are thick with silver rime and dry thistle heads rise like goblets plated with silver catching the sun.

Freedom from worries and surcease from strain are illusions that always inhabit the distance.

Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never again will be; what is is change.

Nature is shy and noncommittal in a crowd. To learn her secrets, visit her alone or with a single friend, at most. Everything evades you, everything hides, even your thoughts escape you, when you walk in a crowd.

Any fine morning, a power saw can fell a tree that took a thousand years to grow.

It is morally as bad not to care whether anything is true or not.