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
Wilderness is a resource which can shrink but not grow... the creation of new wilderness in the full sense of the word is impossible.
Interpretation
Wilderness is an irreplaceable resource that can diminish but cannot be artificially recreated.
In this quote, Aldo Leopold emphasizes the vulnerability of natural wilderness areas, suggesting that once they are lost or degraded, they cannot be restored to their original state. The implications of this statement underline the importance of conserving existing wild spaces rather than relying on the hope of recreating them in the future, highlighting the finite nature of these environments.
In practice
Use this quote while advocating for local conservation efforts during a community meeting.
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.
Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear, it strikes like lightning to hear him sing.
My religion is nature. Thatβs what arouses those feelings of wonder and mysticism and gratitude in me.
To be alive in this beautiful, self-organizing universe -- to participate in the dance of life with senses to perceive it, lungs that breathe it, organs that draw nourishment from it -- is a wonder beyond words.
Removing the weeds, putting fresh soil about the bean stems, and encouraging this weed which I had sown, making the yellow soil express its summer thought in bean leaves and blossoms rather than in wormwood and piper and millet grass, making the earth say beans instead of grass, - this was my daily work.
What nature creates has eternity in it.
To country people Cows are mild, And flee from any stick they throw; But Iβm a timid town bred child, And all the cattle seem to know.
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