. Through the year with Thoreau. fruit. Man for once standsin such relation to Nature as the animals that pluckand eat as they go. The fields and hills are a tableconstantly spread. Wines of all kinds and qualities,of noblest vintage, are bottled up in the skins ofcountless berries, for the taste of men and men they seem offered not so much for food as forsociality, that they may picnic with Nature, — dietdrinks, cordials, wines. We pluck and eat in remem-brance of Her. It is a sacrament, a communion. Thenot-forbidden fruits, which no serpent tempts us totaste. Slight and innocent s
. Through the year with Thoreau. fruit. Man for once standsin such relation to Nature as the animals that pluckand eat as they go. The fields and hills are a tableconstantly spread. Wines of all kinds and qualities,of noblest vintage, are bottled up in the skins ofcountless berries, for the taste of men and men they seem offered not so much for food as forsociality, that they may picnic with Nature, — dietdrinks, cordials, wines. We pluck and eat in remem-brance of Her. It is a sacrament, a communion. Thenot-forbidden fruits, which no serpent tempts us totaste. Slight and innocent savors, which relate us toNature, make us her guests and entitle us to herregard and protection. It is a Saturnalia, and wequaff her wines at every turn. This season of berry-ing is so far respected that the children have a vaca-tion to pick berries, and women and children whonever visit distant hills and fields and swamps onany other errand are seen making haste thither now,with half their domestic utensils in their hands. The.
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