We Console Ourselves With The Comfortable Fallacy

Then Came The Gadgeteer, Otherwise Known As The Sporting-goods Dealer. He Has Draped The American Outdoorsman With An Infinity Of Contraptions, All Offered As Aids To Self-reliance, Hardihood, Woodcraft, Or Marksmanship, But Too Often Functioning As Substitutes For Them. Gadgets Fill The Pockets, They Dangle From Neck And Belt. The Overflow Fills The Auto-trunk And Also The Trailer. Each Item Of Outdoor Equipment Grows Lighter And Often Better, But The Aggregate Poundage Becomes Tonnage.

The Last Word In Ignorance Is The Man Who Says Of An Animal Or Plant, "what Good Is It?" If The Land Mechanism As A Whole Is Good, Then Every Part Is Good, Whether We Understand It Or Not. If The Biota, In The Course Of Aeons, Has Built Something We Like But Do Not Understand, Then Who But A Fool Would Discard Seemingly Useless Parts? To Keep Every Cog And Wheel Is The First Precaution Of Intelligent Tinkering.

Our Ability To Perceive Quality In Nature Begins, As In Art, With The Pretty.

There Is Time Not Only To See Who Has Done What, But To Speculate Why.

The Real Jewel Of My Disease-ridden Woodlot Is The Prothonotary Warbler. ... The Flash Of His Gold-and-blue Plumage Amid The Dank Decay Of The June Woods Is In Itself Proof That Dead Trees Are Transmuted Into Living Animals, And Vice Versa.