Quotes About Nature

If there's a noise in the woods, and there's nobody around to hear it, is it really a noise? Of course it is, she replied calmly. How did you reach that conclusion? Beldin demanded. Because there's no such thing as an empty place, uncle. There are always creatures around --wild animals, mice, insects, birds --and they can all hear. But what if there weren't? What if the woods are truly empty? Why waste your time talking about an impossibility?

Zakath's face grew thoughtful. You know something, Garion? he said. Man thinks he owns the world, but we share it with all sorts of creatures who are indifferent to our overlordship. They have their own societies, and I supposed even their own cultures. They don't even pay attention to us, do you? Only when we inconvenience them...It teaches us humility, Garion agreed.

Belgarath and Garion effortlessly hurdled over the driftwood and loped off into the fog. It's going to be a wet day, Garion noted soundlessly as he ran alongside the great silver wolf. Your fur won't melt. I know, but my paws get cold when they're wet. I'll have Durnik make you some little booties. That would be absolutely ridiculous, Grandfather, Garion said indignantly.

Why do some trees stay green while others change their color?" "Certain trees need to show off, dear. I'm sure that my big brother could explain why it happens. Dahlaine loves to explain things, and he can be very tedious about it. I prefer simpler answers. The trees are sad because summer's almost over.

The Orb is not of itself evil. Evil is a thing that lies only in the hearts and minds of men--and of Gods, also. --Aldur

The land, indifferent to human boundaries, flowed on unchanged.

Sorgan tried his very best not to think about how long it must have taken for a stream that small to eat its way down through solid rock to form its current bed. Sorgan knew exactly what the word "hundred" meant, but when numbers wandered off toward "thousand"—or even "million"—and the people who used those terms were talking about years, Sorgan's mind shied back in horror.

I thought the trees down in Lady Zelana's country were about as big as a tree could get," he said, "but the ones around here are so tall that they probably tickle the moon's tummy when she goes by.

Andar si godeva il silenzio che si stendeva sul mare quando stava per arrivare un nuovo giorno. In quei momenti la superficie gli appariva straordinariamente bella e gli sembrava che il mare trattenesse il respiro, aspettando il sole.

La luna si levò sopra la prateria e sembrava succhiare via tutti i colori dal paesaggio circostante; adesso tutto appariva diverso. I cespugli lungo il letto asciutto non erano verdi ma neri e avevano un che di minaccioso.

Those who begin below, as so many do today, assume that God's love is whispered first in their inner senses, that it is part of their nature, that it is part of creation. And they assume that it becomes real to them when they experience its therapeutic benefits.

And when he came to, he was flat on his back on the beach in the freezing sand, and it was raining out of a low sky, and the tide was way out.

For those who've never experienced a sunrise in the rural midwest, it's roughly as soft and romantic as someone's abruptly hitting the lights in a dark room.

it occurred that the birds, whose twitters and repeated songs sounded so pretty and affirming of nature and the coming day, might actually, in a code known only to other birds, be the birds each saying 'Get away' or 'This branch is mine!' or 'This tree is mine! I'll kill you! Kill, kill!' Or any manner of dark, brutal, or self-protective stuff--they might be listening to war cries. The thought came from nowhere and made his spirits dip from some reason.

and suddenly it occurred to him that the birds, whose twitters and repeated songs sounded so pretty and affirming of nature and the coming day, might actually, in a code known only to other birds, be the birds each saying 'Get away' or 'This branch is mine!' or 'This tree is mine! I'll kill you! Kill, kill!' Or any other manner of dark, brutal, or self-protective stuff—they might be listening to war cries. The thought came from nowhere and made his spirits dip for some reason.

Scenery is here. Wish you were beautiful.

The really desolate areas can get pretty crowded, of course, sometimes, so it's good to get there early, get as much wandering as you can in before noon.

Insects all business all the time.

The trees' bony fingers make spell-casting gestures in the wind as they pass.

a thing among things, its self's soul so much vapor aloft, falling as rain and then rising, the sun up and down like a yoyo.

Wolf-Spiders Ruleth the Land

He has that rare spinal appreciation for beauty in the ordinary that nature seems to bestow on those who have no native words for what they see.

ragweed,wild oat,vetch,butcher grass,invaginate volunteer beans,all heads gently nodding in a morning breeze like a mother's soft hand on your cheek...

in winter's watered-down light—just