Quotes About Nature

He had no love for sleeping inside and wanted his horse near him. There was something about lying under the stars that was conducive to thought, and he had some thinking to do.

Bats and birds taken from those mountains

It was a sea of horns above the red, brown, brindle, and white-splashed backs of the steers.

The savage is never far from the surface in any of us, but because we know he is there we fight it down.

The desert was a school, a school where each day, each hour, a final examination was offered, where failure meant death and the buzzards landed to correct the papers.

How lonely were these silent hills! How reaching out for the sounds of men, for I believe a land needs people to nurse its flesh and bring from it the goodness of crops.

Men may plan, they may dream and struggle, but the buzzard has only to wait, for all things come to him in the end.

You will leave here at daybreak and you will leave alone. He smiled, showing a fine set of white, even teeth. And if I do not choose to? Bodies do not lie long upon the ground. The coyotes dispose of them.

exhilarating silence.

Never did a tree fall that I did not feel a pang, and rightly so, for when the trees are gone, man will also be gone, for without them we cannot live. The very air we breathe comes from trees, and when they are gone, the air will thicken and men will die and our great towers of stone will fall away to rubble and there will be only weeds, and then grass to cover the unsightly mounds we leave behind.

Most of all we needed a fat bear, for of all things, fat is the hardest to come by in the wilderness.

Never did a tree fall That did I not feel a pang For rightly said when they are non man will be gone.. For The very air is replenished by them trees When they are gone the air will thicken and we all will die Will become rubbles our forts and tower.. Only weeds and stones to cover The unsightly mounds we leave.. -Lonesome Gods

tawny-headed man

The old towns, the ghost towns, no longer belong to men. The desert and the mountains have taken them back, gathered them into their arms and made them one with the trees and brush and rocks.

off the leaves and straightened my clothes, wishing there was

spring and enough grass to last the burros for quite some time. After a careful scouting around, he made a fire of dead mesquite, which made almost no smoke, and fixed some coffee. When he had eaten, Dunbar gathered up his pan, pick, shovel, and rifle and moved out. He was

vantage point on the ridge he could see a green, forested valley where

There was never a place he walked that was not the better for his having passed. For every tree he cut down he planted two.

Vincent Benét's poem The Ballad of William Sycamore.

That was how I would remember my father. There was never a place he walked that was not the better for his having passed. For every tree he cut down he planted two.

See? I am here. Why? Because I wanted to see, to know, to understand. I wanted to go beyond the Great River. I wanted to go beyond the plains. I want even to go beyond these mountains where we now are. I think I am in this world to find beauty in lonely places. At least, that is what I wish to think.

A walking man will kick the grass down in the direction of travel, but a horse with the swinging movements of its hoofs will knock the grass down so it points in the direction from which it has come.

Only the wind made a sound to be heard, a soft soughing that seemed to whisper of the impending rain. The

Some folks think that being smart in the books is the only kind of smart, but that just isn't so. Men learn a lot by doin', and they learn by listenin' to what others say, but when a man is workin' on a farm or walkin' in the woods or ridin' across country, he can do a lot of thinking. Many a man who reads a lot just repeats what he's read, and not what he thinks.