Oh, Spring is surely coming, Her couriers fill the air; Each morn are new arrivals, Each night her ways prepare; I scent her fragrant garments, Her foot is on the stair.
John BurroughsBefore the bud swells, before the grass springs, before the plough is started, comes the sugar harvest. It is sequel of the bitter frost; a sap run is the sweet goodbye of winter.
John BurroughsMan is, and always has been, a maker of gods. It has been the most serious and significant occupation of his sojourn in the world.
John Burroughs