PROEM 



*C IT T EAVEN and earth are threads of the same 

 : loom." Standing in the glory of the setting 



sun, the earth and sky enveloped in rosy 

 flames, this phrase shot across my consciousness. My 

 emotions had risen almost to the breaking point with 

 the rapture of crimson oak against azure sky, sun 

 shine on forests of golden maples, hillsides of sumac 

 and dogwood reflected in still waters, the fragrance 

 of falling leaves, the faint melodies of passing birds, 

 the piercing sweetness of the whitethroat's song, and 

 now this crowning glory! Heaven and earth met in 

 golden splendor. One could almost see the serried 

 ranks of angels which Fra Angelico loved to paint, 

 and hear the celestial harmonies beyond those daz 

 zling forms which men call clouds. 



This feeling of expansion, of freedom which comes 

 from great open spaces, this joy in the full rounded 



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