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Fri, Jun 8, 12 at 13:16
| In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things. In physical terms, I move through them; yet in metaphysical ones, they seem to move through me.
John Fowles I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets.
I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things... I play with leaves. I skip down the street and run against the wind.
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Follow-Up Postings:
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- Posted by lilosophie none (My Page) on Fri, Jun 8, 12 at 15:17
| Another set of great quotes, thank you, Don It is really strange, the quotes are all attributed to persons of European descent, and yet in medieval Europe and even beyond that, Wood always appeared to be mysterious, dangerous places, just look at the fairy-tales of all countries, and in the general literature. Focus always had been on Cities, towns and villages surrounded by cleared fields. |
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