It Is In Midwinter That I Sometimes

To Those Devoid Of Imagination A Blank Place On The Map Is A Useless Waste; To Others, The Most Valuable Part.

That Land Is A Community Is The Basic Concept Of Ecology, But That Land Is To Be Loved And Respected Is An Extension Of Ethics.

Our Tools Are Better Than We Are, And Grow Better Faster Than We Do. They Suffice To Crack The Atom, To Command The Tides, But They Do Not Suffice For The Oldest Task In Human History, To Live On A Piece Of Land Without Spoiling It.

Man Brings All Things To The Test Of Himself, And This Is Notably True Of Lightning.

We Reached The Old Wolf In Time To Watch A Fierce Green Fire Dying In Her Eyes. I Realized Then, And Have Known Ever Since, That There Was Something New To Me In Those Eyes – Something Known Only To Her And To The Mountain. I Was Young Then, And Full Of Trigger-itch; I Thought That Because Fewer Wolves Meant More Deer, That No Wolves Would Mean Hunters’ Paradise. But After Seeing The Green Fire Die, I Sensed That Neither The Wolf Nor The Mountain Agreed With Such A View.