Quotes About Nature

I felt something rough brush against my leg. I yelped and jerked it away instinctively. "What?" Shane asked. Before I even lowered my head, I knew. Underneath me I saw the sleek gray body gliding below.

The best six doctors anywhere And no one can deny it Are sunshine, water, rest, and air Exercise and diet. These six will gladly you attend If only you are willing Your mind they'll ease Your will they'll mend And charge you not a shilling." -- Nursery rhyme quoted by Wayne Fields, What the River Knows, 1990

church of the new creation is more like wildflowers strewn across an alpine meadow than a walled garden with manicured hedges. I realize

All life requires a rhythm of rest. . . There is a rhythm in the way day dissolves into night, and night into morning. There is a rhythm as the active growth of spring and summer is quieted by the necessary dormancy of fall and winter. There is a tidal rhythm, a deep, eternal conversation between the land and the great sea.

Like a path through the forest, Sabbath creates a marker for ourselves so, if we are lost, we can find our way back to our center." — Wayne Muller (Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal, and Delight in Our Busy Lives)

Like a path through the forest, Sabbath creates a marker for ourselves so, if we are lost, we can find our way back to our center.

The more spacious and larger our fundamental nature, the more bearable the pains in living.

And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon The golden apples of the sun

Ansiando pela Primavera "Chô-chô, Chô-chô, na no ha ni tomare; Na no ha ga iyenara, te ni tomare…" Borboleta, vem pousar Na tenra colza - ou então, Se não te agrada a colza, Vem pousar na minha mão

To by held above the earth and be brushed by the wind," she said,"it's like your heart has been kissed by beauty.

I'd scale that monster sycamore if I could. Right to the top. And I'd yell her name across the rooftops for the whole world to hear. -Bryce

The soil is the great connector of our lives, the source and destination of all.

One of the most important resources that a garden makes available for use, is the gardener's own body. A garden gives the body the dignity of working in its own support. It is a way of rejoining the human race

To cherish what remains of the Earth and to foster its renewal is our only legitimate hope of survival.

I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief... For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

And find that dark, too blooms and sings, and is traveled by dark feet, and dark wings.

Small creatures die because larger creatures are hungry. How superior to this human confusion of greed and creed, blood and fire.

An art that heals and protects its subject is a geography of scars.

We haven't accepted we can't really believe that the most characteristic product of our age of scientific miracles is junk, but that is so. And we still think and behave as though we face an unspoiled continent, with thousands of acres of living space for every man. We still sing "America the Beautiful" as though we had not created in it, by strenuous effort, at great expense, and with dauntless self-praise, an unprecedented ugliness.

When the possessions and households of citizens are no longer honored by the acts, as well as the principles, of their government, then the concentration camp ceases to be one of the possibilities of human nature and becomes one of its likelihoods.

Once plants and animals were raised together on the same farm which therefore neither produced unmanageable surpluses of manure, to be wasted and to pollute the water supply, nor depended on such quantities of commercial fertilizer. The genius of America farm experts is very well demonstrated here: they can take a solution and divide it neatly into two problems.

Sit and be still until in the time of no rain you hear beneath the dry wind's commotion in the trees the sound of flowing water among the rocks, a stream unheard before, and you are where breathing is prayer.

Ask the world to reveal its quietude not the silence of machines when they are still, but the true quiet by which birdsongs, trees, bellworts, snails, clouds, storms become what they are, and are nothing else.