Seeing with your eyes wide opened, seeing with your eyes wide shut. Tuning yourself to the prose of the world. Ecouter voir la rumeur du vivant, sentir le tremblé du monde. Accueillir l'invisible, habiter les frontières, chercher, fouiller, visiter follement les mousses et les pierres. I wish to all my readers a
Each one of us, then, should speak of his roads, his crossroads, his roadside benches; each one of us should make a surveyor’s map of his lost fields and meadows. Thoreau said that he had a map of his fields engraved in his soul.
Thus we cover the universe with drawings we have lived.
Chacun devrait alors dire ses routes, ses carrefours, ses bancs. Chacun devrait dresser le cadastre de ses campagnes perdues.
If you can't go to the woods, if you can't go to the sea, if you can't cut out a frame of your window, if you can't keep the wild in you, then leaf through The garden Party, open it anywhere and you 'll pick up emerald green treasures twinkling like small epiphanies high above the greyish fragments of your urban day.
Pip took something out of his pocket, rubbed it a long time on the front of his jersey, then breathed on it and rubbed it again.
"Now turn round!" he ordered.
They turned round.
"All look the same way! Keep still! Now!"
And his hand opened; he held up to the light something that flashed, that winked, that was a most lovely green.
"It's a nemeral," said Pip solemnly.
"Is it really, Pip?" Even Isabel was impressed.
The lovely green thing seemed to dance in Pip's fingers. Aunt Beryl had a nemeral in a ring, but it was a very small one. This one was as big as a star and far more beautiful.