学习啦【英语散文】 编辑：韦彦 发布时间：2016-09-19
Adventure in the World of Nature
One stormy autumn night when my grandnephew Roger was about twenty months old I wrapped him in a blanket and carried him down to the beach in the rainy darkness.Out there,just at the edge of where-we-couldn't-see big waves were thundering in,dimly seen white shapes that boomed and shouted and threw great handfuls of forth at us. Together we laughed for pure joy-he a baby meeting for the first time the wild tumult of oceanus, I wish the salt of half a lifetime of sea love in me.e But I think we felt the same spine-tingling response to the vast, roaring ocean and the wild night around us.
A night or two later the storm had blown itself out and I took Roger again to the beach, this time to carry him along the water's edge, piercing the darkness with the yellow cone of our flashlight. Although there was no rain the night was again noisy with breaking waves and the insistent wind. It was clearly a time and place where great and
elemental things prevailed.
One adventure on this particular night had to do with life, for we were searching for ghost crabs, those sand-colored, fleet-legged beings which Roger had sometimes glimpsed briefly on the beaches in daytime. But the crabs are chietly nocturnal, and when not roaming the night beaches they dig little pits near the surf line where they hide, seemingly watching and waiting for what the sea may bring themm. For me the sight of these small living creatures, solitary and fragile against the brute force of the sea, had moving philosophic overtones, and I do not pretend that Roger and I reacted with similar emotions. But it was good to see his infant acceptance of a world of elemental things,fearing neither the song of the wind nor the darkness nor the roaring surf, entering with baby excitement into the search for a " ghos."
It was hardly a conventional way to entertain one so young, I suppose, but now,with Ruger a little past his fourth birthday, we are continuing that sharing of adventures in the world of nature that we began in his babyhood, and I think the results are good. The sharing includes nature in storm as well as calm, by night as well as day, and is based on having tun together rather than on teaching.
Love your life
However mean your life is,meet it and live it ;do not shun it and call it hardnames.It is not so bad as you suppose.It looks poorest when you are richest.The fault-finder will find faults in paradise.Love your life,poor as it is.You may perhaps have some pleasant,thrilling,glorious hourss,even in a poor-house.The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the alms-house as brightly as from the rich man's abode;the snow melts before its door as early in the spring.
I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there,and have as cheering thoughts,as in a palace.The town's poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any.May be they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving.Most think that they are above being supported by the town;but it often happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means.which should be more disreputable.
Cultivate poverty like a garden herb,like sage.Do not trouble yourself much to get new things,whether clothes or friends,Turn the old,return to them.Things do not change;we change.Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts.
Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind. It is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees. It is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep spring of life.
Youth means a temperamental predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. This often exits in a man of 60, more than a boy of 20.nobody grows merely by the number of years; we grow old by deserting our ideas. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust1 bows the heart and turns the spirit back to dust.
Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being’s heart the lure of wonders, the unfailing childlike appetite of what’s next and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station; so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from infinite, so long as you are young.
When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with the snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you’ve grown old, even at 20, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch waves of optimism, there’s hope you may die young at 80.