John Burroughs Quotes About Summer

Quotes about: Summer

• He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter.

  John Burroughs

  Summer, Winter, World

  John Burroughs, Farida Anna Wiley (1997). “John Burroughs' America: Selections from the Writings of the Naturalist”, p.123, Courier Corporation

• One summer day, while I was walking along the country road on the farm where I was born, a section of the stone wall opposite me, and not more than three or four yards distant, suddenly fell down. Amid the general stillness and immobility about me the effect was quite startling. ... It was the sudden summing up of half a century or more of atomic changes in the material of the wall. A grain or two of sand yielded to the pressure of long years, and gravity did the rest.

  John Burroughs

  Summer, Country, Wall

• For two summers not a blue wing, not a blue warble. I seemed to miss something kindred and precious from my environment--the visible embodiment of the tender sky and wistful soil. What a loss, I said, to coming generations of dwellers in the country--no bluebird in spring!

  John Burroughs

  Summer, Country, Spring

  Neltje Blanchan, John Burroughs (2016). “Bird Neighbors - An Introductory Acquaintance with One Hundred and Fifty Birds Commonly Found in the Gardens, Meadows, and Woods About Our Homes”, p.7, Read Books Ltd

• The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in winter; the fleshy, in summer. I should say winter had given the bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood.

  John Burroughs

  Summer, Winter, June

  John Burroughs (1875). “Winter Sunshine”, p.53

• I always feel at home where the sugar maple grows.... glorious in autumn, a fountain of coolness in summer, sugar in its veins, gold in its foliage, warmth in its fibers, and health in it the year round.

  John Burroughs

  Summer, Home, Autumn

  "Under the Maples - The Last Portrait of John Burroughs".

• The sunbeams are welcome now. They seem like pure electricity—like friendly and recuperating lightning. Are we led to think electricity abounds only in summer, when we see in the storm-clouds as it were, the veins and ore-beds of it? I imagine it is equally abundant in winter, and more equable and better tempered. Who ever breasted a snowstorm without being excited and exhilarated, as if this meteor had come charged with latent auroræ of the North, as doubtless it has? It is like being pelted with sparks from a battery.

  John Burroughs

  Summer, Winter, Thinking

  John Burroughs, Farida Anna Wiley (1997). “John Burroughs' America: Selections from the Writings of the Naturalist”, p.122, Courier Corporation

• All sounds are sharper in winter; the air transmits better. At night I hear more distinctly the steady roar of the North Mountain. In summer it is a sort of complacent purr, as the breezes stroke down its sides; but in winter always the same low, sullen growl.

  John Burroughs

  Summer, Winter, Night

  John Burroughs (2012). “In the Catskills Selections from the Writings of John Burroughs”, p.17, tredition

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