“ A small cabin stands in the Glacier Peak Wilderness, about a hundred yards off a trail that crosses the Cascade Range. In midsummer, the cabin looked strange in the forest. It was only twelve feet squ… John McPhee
“ Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare, and left the flushed print in a poppy there. Francis Thompson
“ The wind whirls and whistles and strip pink blooms from the mimosas, scatters twigs, broken limbs, pine needles and pine cones across our yard, and robs the pecan trees of a thousand leaves. The storm… Brenda Sutton Rose
“ On the first day of November last year, sacred to many religious calendars but especially the Celtic, I went for a walk among bare oaks and birch. Nothing much was going on. Scarlet sumac had passed a… Mary Rose O'Reilley
“ I think it would be well, and proper, and obedient, and pure, to grasp your one necessity and not let it go, to dangle from it limp wherever it takes you. Then even death, where you're going no matter… Annie Dillard
“ A year indoors is a journey along a paper calendar; a year in outer nature is the accomplishment of a tremendous ritual. To share in it, one must have a knowledge of the pilgrimages of the sun, and so… Henry Beston
“ A hothouse flower trained to bloom out of season and in the wrong climate. I do not belong. Karen Levy
“ As the saturating colors of sun-life fade from sight, the ominous moon reaches out its long arm and applies the dark dyes of night. Daniel J. Rice
“ I sit watching until dusk, hypnotized. I think of the sea as continually sloshing back and forth, repetitive, but my psyche goes with the river- always loping downhill, purposeful, listening only to g… Ann Zwinger
“ Books , like landscapes, leave their marks in us. (...) Certain books, though, like certain landscapes, stay with us even when we left them, changing not just our weathers but our climates. Robert Macfarlane
“ The evening's light, silvery, casts its dull brightness onto the trees--trees gelid in this blue light of winter. But whiteness dominates with the pines and evergreens steeped in vibrant grades of sil… S.K. Kalsi
“ I pace the shallow sea, walking the time between, reflecting on the type of fossil I’d like to be. I guess I’d like my bones to be replaced by some vivid chert, a red ulna or radius, or maybe preserve… Ann Zwinger
“ As dawn leaks into the sky it edits out the stars like excess punctuation marks, deleting asterisks and periods, commas, and semi-colons, leaving only unhinged thoughts rotating and pivoting, and unse… Ann Zwinger
“ This beach I voyage on leads me through the earth's immortal consistencies. Each form I encounter obeys the principles of perfection and trial, a timelessness in the making. The proportions of truth a… John Hay
“ I'll tell you a story, far, far from here where blades of grass are fluent in sentient knowledge and trees are a mandala of prayer. Carolyn Riker
“ The fire. The odor of burning juniper is the sweetest fragrance on the face of the earth, in my honest judgment; I doubt if all the smoking censers of Dante's paradise could equal it. One breath of ju… Edward Abbey
