Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their families, their histories too. Talk to them, listen to them. They are alive poems.
Give me the map of any country, its configuration, its climate, its waters, its winds, and the whole of its physical geography; give me its natural productions, its flora, its zoology, &c., and I pledge myself to tell you, a priori, what will be the quality of man in history:—not accidentally, but necessarily; not at any particular epoch, but in all;
This quotation elevated geography in its importance, even though the claim was slightly exaggerated.
The forests of America, however slighted by man, must have been a great delight to God; for they were the best he ever planted. The whole continent was a garden, and from the beginning, it seemed to be favored above all the other wild parks and gardens of the globe.
Oman overall has great animal and plant biodiversity because it has mountains, desert, coastal areas and rich coral reefs.
I cannot remember a time when I was not interested in both gardening and painting. I must have been born with a trowel in one hand and a paintbrush in the other.
I sometimes lose interest in the characters and get much more interested in the trees and animals.
I like gardening. I'm really a nature man. I spend as much time as I can in nature. I feel really safe there.
It is only now and then, in a jungle, or amidst the towering white menace of a burnt or burning Australian forest, that Nature strips the moral veils from vegetation and we apprehend its stark ferocity.
We have the most beautiful planet - the Rockies, the purple fields of the United States, the Lake District, the Pyrenees, the turquoise seas of the tropics.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: Of April, May, or June, and July flowers. I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the bridal cakes.
I live in a 'sky island,' a unique mountain valley environment where half the animal species of North America can be found.
A tree is alive, and thus it is always more than you can see. Roots to leaves, yes-those you can, in part, see. But it is more-it is the lichens and moss and ferns that grow on its bark, the life too small to see that lives among its roots, a community we know of, but do not think on. It is every fly and bee and beetle that uses it for shelter or food, every bird that nests in its branches. Every one an individual, and yet every one part of the tree, and the tree part of every one.
It's a misconception that you don't have seasons in southern California. They are just very subtle. The vegetation is very different. Plants react differently. You just have to be a little more observant.
I cannot pick one single forest to be a favourite, but I am in love with the Indian jungles - be it Madhumalai and Kabini in South India or Tadoba and Pench National Park in Maharashtra. The wildlife in Satpura and Corbett National Park can't be missed, either.
Nature is always lavish of her gifts even to the most insignificant forms. The butterflies and moths are richly dowered in this respect.
And somehow mother nature manages to create this incredible biosphere, to create this incredibly rich environment of animals and plants with this amazingly small amount of data.
Rainforests are not confined to the tropics: a good definition is forest wet enough to support epiphytes - plants that grow on other plants. Particularly in the west of Britain, where tiny fragments persist, you can find trees covered in rich growths of a fern called polypody, mosses and lichens, and flowering plants climbing the lower trunks.
Here and there one sees the blush of wild rose haws or the warmth of orange fruit on the bittersweet, and back in the woods is the occasional twinkle of partridgeberries. But they are the gem stones, the rare decorations which make the grays, the browns and the greens seem even more quiet, more completely at rest.
I like English parks.
Brazil has one of the greatest natural patrimonies in terms of biodiversity.
Poisonous frogs feast on insects that don't even have names. Tropical lizards disappear into the cracks of trees whose branches spread out as wide as their trunks climb high. This is the real Florida, as it was before people, and probably will be after us, too.
Nature has different times.
Far off in the red mangroves an alligator has heaved himself onto a hummock of grass and lies there, studying his poems.
The Admiral says that he never beheld so fair a thing: trees all along the river, beautiful and green, and different from ours, with flowers and fruits each according to their kind, many birds and little birds which sing very sweetly.
I'm a self-taught landscape gardener; it's a real passion of mine. It's what I do in my spare time because trees don't ask questions!