All our yesterdays are summarized in our now, and all the tomorrows are ours to shape.

Summer is a promissory note signed in June, its long days spent and gone before you know it, and due to be repaid next January.

All walking is discovery. On foot we take the time to see things whole.

Nothing in nature is as simple as it sometimes seems when reduced to words.

March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes and a laugh in her voice.

For all his learning or sophistication, man still instinctively reaches towards that force beyond. Only arrogance can deny its existence, and the denial falters in the face of evidence on every hand. In every tuft of grass, in every bird, in every opening bud, there it is.

Time after time ... today's crisis shrinks to next week's footnote to a newly headline disaster.