Man Is, And Always Has Been, A

The Lure Of The Distant And The Difficult Is Deceptive. The Great Opportunity Is Where You Are.

Every Walk To The Woods Is A Religious Rite, Every Bath In The Stream Is A Saving Ordinance. Communion Service Is At All Hours, And The Bread And Wine Are From The Heart And Marrow Of Mother Earth. There Are No Heretics In Nature's Church; All Are Believers, All Are Communicants. The Beauty Of Natural Religion Is That You Have It All The Time; You Do Not Have To Seek It Afar Off In Myths And Legends, In Catacombs, In Garbled Texts, In Miracles Of Dead Saints Or Wine-bibbing Friars. It Is Of Today; It Is Now And Here; It Is Everywhere.

In New York And New England The Sap Starts Up In The Sugar Maple The Very Day The Bluebird Arrives, And Sugar-making Begins Forthwith. The Bird Is Generally A Mere Disembodied Voice; A Rumor In The Air For Two Or Three Days Before It Takes Visible Shape Before You.

Serene, I Fold My Hands And Wait, Nor Care For Wind, Nor Tide, Nor Sea; I Rave No More 'gainst Time Or Fate, For Lo! My Own Shall Come To Me.

The Kingdom Of Heaven Is Not A Place, But A State Of Mind.