By the time one is eighty, it is said, there is no longer a tug of war in the garden with the May flowers hauling like mad against the claims of the other months. All is at last in balance and all is serene. The gardener is usually dead, of course. – Henry Mitchell, The Essential Earthman, 1981

Land, then, is not merely soil; it is a fountain of energy flowing through a circuit of soils, plants, and animals. – Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac

History, like a vast river, propels logs, vegetation, rafts, and debris; it is full of live and dead things, some destined for resurrection; it mingles many waters and holds in solution invisible substances stolen from distant soils. – Jacques Barzun, Clio and the Doctors