The Owl, That Bird Of

If The Voice Of The Brook Was Not The First Song Of Celebration, It Must Have Been At Least An Obbligato For That Event.

There Are Two Seasonal Diversions That Can Ease The Bite Of Any Winter. One Is The January Thaw. The Other Is The Seed Catalogues.

To See A Hillside White With Dogwood Bloom Is To Know A Particular Ecstasy Of Beauty, But To Walk The Gray Winter Woods And Find The Buds Which Will Resurrect That Beauty In Another May Is To Partake Of Continuity.

Each New Season Grows From The Leftovers From The Past. That Is The Essence Of Change, And Change Is The Basic Law.

Any River Is Really The Summation Of A Whole Valley. It Shapes Not Only The Land But The Life And Even The Culture Of That Valley. To Think Of Any River As Nothing But Water Is To Ignore The Greater Part Of It.