Once there was a tree, and she loved a little boy.
Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed.
Jay Pritchett: Rainbows. It’s just colors in the sky. Do we have to take a picture every time we see one?
The machine does not isolate us from the great problems of nature but plunges us more deeply into them.
I hate to be near the sea, and to hear it roaring and raging like a wild beast in its den. It puts me in mind of the everlasting efforts of the human mind, struggling to be free, and ending just where it began.
We do not see nature with our eyes, but with our understandings and our hearts.
My love for the water would always be tempered by respect for dangers that must never be underestimated.
Always when we walked, it was clear to me how much he loved nature, wild flowers, animals in their natural habitat and the simple pleasures of a beautiful sunset. My love for the environment did not develop out of a vacuum.
Grandfather: The truth is that, while we Welsh like to believe that it was the mountains that beat the successive invaders, it was really the weather that comes with mountains. It was the rain that defeated every invader. Yes, simple rain.
The air was clear and scented, the breeze flitted lightly through the tall grass around his cave, the birds were chirruping at each other, the butterflies were flitting about prettily, and the whole of nature seemed to be conspiring to be as pleasant as it possibly could.
It wasn’t all the pastoral delights that were making Arthur feel so cheery, though. He had just had a wonderful idea about how to cope with the terrible lonely isolation, the nightmares, the failure of all his attempts at horticulture, and the sheer futurelessness and futility of his life here on prehistoric Earth, which was that he would go mad.
I believe in God, only I spell it “Nature”.