It May Not Be Easy, Life Isn't

I Must Return To The Mountains-to Yosemite. I Am Told That The Winter Storms There Will Not Be Easily Borne, But I Am Bewitched, Enchanted, And Tomorrow I Must Start For The Great Temple To Listen To The Winter Songs And Sermons Preached And Sung Only There.

[concerning The Water Ouzel, Now Called American Dipper:] In A General Way His Music Is That Of The Streams Refined And Spiritualized. The Deep Booming Notes Of The Falls Are In It, The Trills Of Rapids, The Gurgling Of Margin Eddies, The Low Whispering Of Level Reaches, And The Sweet Tinkle Of Separate Drops Oozing From The Ends Of Mosses And Falling Into Tranquil Pools.

They Tell Us That Plants Are Not Like Man Immortal, But Are Perishable-soul -less. I Think That Is Something That We Know Exactly Nothing About.

The Bat­tle We Have Fought, And Are Still Fight­ing For The Forests Is A Part Of The Eter­nal Con­flict Between Right And Wrong, And We Can­not Expect To See The End Of It. …so We Must Count On Watch­ing And Striv­ing For These Trees, And Should Always Be Glad To Find Any­thing So Surely Good And Noble To Strive For.

In The Eternal Youth Of Nature, You May Renew Your Own.