What A Dull World If We Knew

The Elemental Simplicities Of Wilderness Travel Were Thrills. They Represented Complete Freedom To Make Mistakes. The Wilderness Gave Those Rewards And Penalties, For Wise And Foolish Acts Against Which Civilization Has Built A Thousand Buffers.

On Motionless Wing They Emerge From The Lifting Mists, Sweep A Final Arc Of Sky, And Settle In Clangorous Descending Spirals To Their Feeding Grounds. A New Day Has Begun On The Crane Marsh.

Bread And Beauty Grow Best Together. Their Harmonious Integration Can Make Farming Not Only A Business But An Art; The Land Not Only A Food-factory But An Instrument For Self-expression, On Which Each Can Play Music To His Own Choosing.

For One Species To Mourn The Death Of Another Is A New Thing Under The Sun.

The Good Life Of Any River May Depend On The Perception Of Its Music; And The Preservation Of Some Music To Perceive.