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Quote by John Burroughs

“That which distinguishes this day from all others is that then both orators and artillerymen shoot blank cartridges.”

Quote by John Burroughs

Author

John Burroughs
John Burroughs

John Burroughs (April 3, 1837 – March 29, 1921) was an American essayist and naturalist, widely regarded as the father of American nature writing. Born in Roxbury, New York, he worked as a teacher and journalist before dedicating himself to observing and writing about nature. His works, such as Wake-Robin and Winter Sunshine, are celebrated for their vivid descriptions and philosophical depth. A close friend of poet Walt Whitman, Burroughs emphasized the spiritual connection between humans and the natural world. His writings influenced early conservation movements and continue to inspire readers today. more

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“Look up at the miracle of the falling snow,—the air a dizzy maze of whirling, eddying flakes, noiselessly transforming the world, the exquisite crystals dropping in ditch and gutter, and disguising in the same suit of spotless livery all objects upon which they fall.”

“The simplicity of winter has a deep moral. The return of Nature, after such a career of splendor and prodigality, to habits so simple and austere, is not lost either upon the head or the heart. It is the philosopher coming back from the banquet and the wine to a cup of water and a crust of bread.”

“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.”

“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.”