The creatures with whom we share the planet and whom, in our arrogance, we wrongly patronize for being lesser forms, they are not brethren, they are not underlings, they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the Earth.
Touch the earth, love the earth, honour the earth, her plains, her valleys, her hills, and her seas; rest your spirit in her solitary places.
Wolves are not our brothers; they are not our subordinates, either. They are another nation, caught up just like us in the complex web of time and life.
The seas are the hearts blood of the earth. Plucked up and kneaded by the sun and the moon, the tides are systole and diastole of earth's veins.
We need another and a wiser and a perhaps more mystical concept of animals.
Animals are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time.
The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter woods.
Learn to reverence night and to put away the vulgar fear of it.
The animal should not be measured by man. In a world older than ours they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the sense we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear.
Learn to reverence night and to put away the vulgar fear of it, for, with the banishment of night from the experience of man, there vanishes as well a religious emotion, a poetic mood, which gives depth to the adventure of humanity.
Last Update: 24 September 2022
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