Quotes About Nature

The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be.

Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.

I've found that there is always some beauty left -- in nature, sunshine, freedom, in yourself; these can all help you.

As long as this exists, this sunshine and this cloudless sky, and as long as I can enjoy it, how can I be sad?

Nature abhors a vacuum. And so do I.

De Maes went to see him and learned that L'Amoral himself was planning to write to Clusius, to send him a bulb of the martagon pomponii

double white Narcissus,

Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches. MATTHEW 13:32

Camping has become one of my most beloved pastimes. I take a fierce delight in swinging a pak o my back or into a canoe and heading for the hills or lakes. In my opinion, camping can be the greatest expression of free will, personal independence, innate ability, and resourcefulness possible today in our industrialized, urbanized existence. Regardless of how miserable or how splendid the circumstances, the sheer experience of camping seems a total justification for doing it.

invite a person to a log cabin in the woods for a weekend. The true personality emerges every time.

How I wish to fly with the geese away from dreary November days, the "freeze-up," and cruel winter. Away from loneliness, isolation, and anxiety bred by blizzards. Most every local person I've talked to grudgingly admits to an autumn apprehension. It is part and parcel of an Adirondacker's psychological makeup. The geese contaminate us with this strange depression on their southbound flight and cure us with their northbound. In between, we try to tolerate winter, each in his or her own way.

Pay attention to the beauty surrounding you.

The earth is rocky and full of roots it's clay, and it seems doomed and polluted, but you dig little holes for the ugly shriveled bulbs, throw in a handful of poppy seeds, and cover it all over, and you know you'll never see it again - it's death and clay and shrivel, and your hands are nicked from the rocks, your nails black with soil.

I think joy and sweetness and affection are a spiritual path. We're here to know God, to love and serve God, and to be blown away by the beauty and miracle of nature. You just have to get rid of so much baggage to be light enough to dance, to sing, to play. You don't have time to carry grudges; you don't have time to cling to the need to be right.

Below birds crossing the lake of the sky and purple martins on power lines, down to the trees and one thing my brother said that stays with me from Long Island to Vermont, something about trees being conductors of spirit ...

Dragon kind was no less cruel than mankind. The Dragon, at least, acted from bestial need rather than bestial greed." ~ A thought by Lessa ~

Trees, for example, carry the memory of rainfall. In their rings we read ancient weather—storms, sunlight, and temperatures, the growing seasons of centuries. A forest shares a history, which each tree remembers even after it has been felled.

Before, the woods had always done so much for me. Once I could actually go out into the woods and communicate with God, or Nature or something. Now that something didn't come through. It was just not there anymore. More than ever I began to wonder whether God actually existed. Maybe God changed as the individual changed, or perhaps grew as one grew.

After all, I don't see why I am always asking for private, individual, selfish miracles when every year there are miracles like white dogwood.

One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can collect only a few and they are more beautiful if they are a few.

Perhaps I am a bear, or some hibernating animal underneath, for the instinct to be half asleep all winter is so strong in me.

One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach.

Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day- like writing a poem or saying a prayer.

The beach is not a place to work; to read, write or to think.