He stood in stillness in an ancient grove of redwood trees, waiting for a wandering poem to land on him. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
Writing a story allows us to play with our imaginary friends when we are adults. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
The scent of rain, as an ancient redwood tree points to the first evening star. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
The man was on his knees, trying to retrieve each of his ugly words that were now scattered on the floor. But, of course, it was too late. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
Do behold the king in his glory, King Sequoia. Behold! Behold! seems all I can say…. Well may I fast, not from bread but from business, bookmaking, duty doing & other trifles…. I’m in the woods woods woods, & they are in mee-ee-ee…. I wish I were wilder & so bless Sequoia I will be. – John Muir, from a letter to Jeanne C. Carr, circa autumn 1870, ©1984 Muir-H