There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature-
the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter.
If spring came but once a century instead of once a year,
or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake and not in silence,
what wonder and expectation there would be
in all the hearts to behold the miraculous change.
All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day
of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel
its energy, and my spirits soar.
Rachel Carson
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Helen Hayes
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