Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson,
Yet our full-leaved willows are in the freshest green.
Such a kindly autumn, so mercifully dealing
With the growths of summer, I never yet have seen. – William Cullen Bryant

Exhalation of moss, mycelium, black mould; wafted savor of a thousand earthly growths, damp, clinging, redolent; aroma of mighty roots, of invisible spawn and seed—all the vast stirring of the earth’s desire. – Virginia Garland, “The Rain,” Out West: A Magazine of the Old Pacifi

Trees are the earth’s endless effort to speak to the listening heaven. – Rabindranath Tagore, Fireflies, 1928

The groves were God’s first temples. – William Cullen Bryant, “A Forest Hymn”