Only Economists Mistake Physical Opulence

Acts Of Creation Are Ordinarily Reserved For Gods And Poets, But Humbler Folk May Circumvent This Restriction If They Know How. To Plant A Pine, For Example, One Need Be Neither God Nor Poet; One Need Only Own A Shovel. By Virtue Of This Curious Loophole In The Rules, Any Clodhopper May Say: Let There Be A Tree - And There Will Be One.

When I Call To Mind My Earliest Impressions, I Wonder Whether The Process Ordinarily Referred To As Growing Up Is Not Actually A Process Of Growing Down; Whether Experience, So Much Touted Among Adults As The Thing Children Lack, Is Not Actually A Progressive Dilution Of The Essentials By The Trivialities Of Living.

Wildflower Corners Are Easy To Maintain, But Once Gone, They Are Hard To Rebuild.

We All Strive For Safety, Prosperity, Comfort, Long Life, And Dullness. The Deer Strives With His Supple Legs, The Cowman With Trap And Poison, The Statesman With Pen, The Most Of Us With Machines, Votes, And Dollars. A Measure Of Success In This Is All Well Enough, And Perhaps Is A Requisite To Objective Thinking, But Too Much Safety Seems To Yield Only Danger In The Long Run. Perhaps This Is Behind Thoreau's Dictum: In Wilderness Is The Salvation Of The World. Perhaps This Is The Hidden Meaning In The Howl Of The Wolf, Long Known Among Mountains, But Seldom Perceived Among Men.

For Us In The Minority, The Opportunity To See Geese Is More Important Than Television.