Reflections

It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives.

And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey, a journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our own feet, and learn to be at home.

There is a way that nature speaks, that land speaks.

Watching gardeners label their plants, I vow with all beings, to practice the old horticulture and let plants identify me.

It is a wholesome and necessary thing for us to turn again to the Earth and in the contemplation of her beauties to know of wonder and humility.

The forest is not made of abstractions.

Earth would die if the sun stopped kissing her.

Knowing that you love the earth changes you, activates you to defend and protect and celebrate.