[pct-l] Thoughts

[bighummel at aol.com]

"He lives out of himself; his sympathies are with nature; his sensations roll through boundless space.? It is for his eye the violet blooms, and the early cloud catches the blush of morn; it is for his ear the bird sings from its green covert, and the torrent shouts from its cliff; it is to cheer his footsteps that the twilight lingers, and the star blazes in the coronet of night: all the changes of the varied year are for him; and around his wild-wood home the seasons lead the hours in perpetual dance; and when his being shall resign its trust, the dirge of the deep wood will sing his requiem, and the wings of the wind, filled with the fragrance of flowers, bear his spirit to its bright abode."

From; Three Years in California, by the Rev. Walter Colton, (Mayor of Monterey) 1850.



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