Here and there one sees the blush of wild rose haws or the warmth of orange fruit on the bittersweet, and back in the woods is the occasional twinkle of partridgeberries. But they are the...

In a painful time of my life I went often to a wooded hillside where May apples grew by the hundreds, and I thought the sourness of their fruit had a symbolism for me. Instead,...

Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence.

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.

Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable…the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street…by a gusty wind, and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese.

Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.