Thoreau writes in his journal:
P.M.—To Baker Farm, on foot . . .
Nature now, like an athlete, begins to strip herself in earnest for her contest with her great antagonist Winter. In the bare trees and twigs what a display of muscle! . . .
Thoreau writes in his journal:
P.M.—To Baker Farm, on foot . . .
Nature now, like an athlete, begins to strip herself in earnest for her contest with her great antagonist Winter. In the bare trees and twigs what a display of muscle! . . .
