Learn To Reverence Night And To Put

We Patronize The Animals For Their Incompleteness, For Their Tragic Fate Of Having Taken Form So Far Below Ourselves. And Therein We Err, And Greatly Err. For The Animal Shall Not Be Measured By Man. In A World Older And More Complete Than Ours, They Are More Finished And Complete, Gifted With Extensions Of The Senses We Have Lost Or Never Attained, Living By Voices We Shall Never Hear. They Are Not Brethren, They Are Not Underlings; They Are Other Nations, Caught With Ourselves In The Net Of Life And Time.

Our Civilization Has Fallen Out Of Touch With Night. With Lights, We Drive The Holiness And Beauty Of Night Back To The Forests And The Sea; The Little Villages, The Crossroads Even, Will Have None Of It. Are Modern Folk, Perhaps, Afraid Of Night? Do They Fear That Vast Serenity, The Mystery Of Infinite Space, The Austerity Of Stars?

A Garden Is The Mirror Of A Mind. It Is A Place Of Life, A Mystery Of Green Moving To The Pulse Of The Year, And Pressing On And Pausing The Whole To Its Own Inherent Rhythms.

If Gardeners Will Forget A Little The Phrase, "watering The Plants" And Think Of Watering As A Matter Of "watering The Earth" Under The Plants, Keeping Up Its Moisture Content And Gauging Its Need, The Garden Will Get On Very Well.

Into Every Empty Corner, Into All Forgotten Things And Nooks, Nature Struggles To Pour Life, Pouring Life Into The Dead, Life Into Life Itself.