Our tools are better than we are, and grow better faster than we do. They suffice to crack the atom, to command the tides, but they do not suffice for the oldest task in human history, to live on a piece of land without spoiling it.
Aldo LeopoldRead
The life of every river sings its own song, but in most the song is long marred by the discords of misuse.
Interpretation
Every river has its unique character, but often it is tarnished by human actions.
Aldo Leopold suggests that while every river has its own natural beauty and story, human activities often disrupt and damage this beauty, leading to a loss of harmony in the natural world. The quote reflects on the importance of respecting nature and recognizing the impact of our actions on the environment, emphasizing that we must listen to and honor the 'songs' of our rivers rather than allowing them to be marred by misuse.
In practice
In a speech about environmental conservation.
Our tools are better than we are, and grow better faster than we do. They suffice to crack the atom, to command the tides, but they do not suffice for the oldest task in human history, to live on a piece of land without spoiling it.
We Americans, in most states at least, have not yet experienced a bear-less, eagle-less, cat- less, wolf-less woods. Germany strove for maximum yields of both timber and game and got neither.
When some remote ancestor of ours invented the shovel, he became a giver: He could plant a tree. And when the axe was invented, he became a taker: He could chop it down. Whoever owns land has thus assumed, whether he knows it or not, the divine functions of creating and destroying plants.
Recreational development is a job not of building roads into lovely country, but of building receptivity into the still unlovely human mind.
My dog does not care where heat comes from, but he cares that it comes, and soon. Indeed he considers my ability to make it come as something magical, for when I rise in the coal black pre-dawn and kneel by the hearth to make a fire, he pushes himself blandly between me and the kindling splits I have laid in the ashes, and I must touch a match to them by poking it between his legs. Such faith , I suppose, is the kind that moves mountains.
Individual thinkers since the days of Ezekiel and Isaiah have asserted that the despoliation of land is not only inexpedient but wrong. Society, however, has not yet affirmed their belief.
The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.
As we kill nature, we are killing ourselves, and God incarnate as the world as well.
The prayer of the farmer kneeling in his field to weed it, the prayer of the rower kneeling with the stroke of his oar, are true prayers heard throughout nature.
Lots of people talk to animals... Not very many listen, though... That's the problem.
Lord, I do fear Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year My soul is all but out of me-let fall No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.
On the batβs back I do fly After summer merrily.
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