"In the presence of Nature a wild delight runs through the man in spite of real sorrow. Not the
sun or the summer alone, but every hour and
season yields its tribute of delight; for every hour
and change corresponds to and authorizes a
different state of mind, from breathless noon to
grimmest midnight. Crossing a bare common, in
snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky,
without having in my thoughts any occurrence of
special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect
exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear. In the
woods, too, a man casts off his years as the snake
his slough, and at what period soever of life is
always a child."
No comments:
Post a Comment