8 WITH EARTH AND SKY 
physically I was walking—walking out, walking 
on. If all the wings that ever bear birds above 
the world into the lovely, lonely sky had been 
attached to my shoulders and had borne me in 
transport where wings never had borne any fly- 
ing thing, I had not been so free of earth and 
so fetterless, so supreme. I was looking, looking, 
and at what was I looking? Why, verily, at 
everything. He who has seen many golden days, 
shall he though a-journey over the same land- 
scape take the landscape for granted? The 
plain answer of experience is, He may not. I 
have learned that. So when my Jehu drove, I 
out and walked. I could have proven an alibi 
on his vehicle and could have refused him remu- 
neration on the ground that I was not in his 
buggy. I was far enough away and solitary 
like a lost eagle and walking out and grateful 
as if I had been an angel. It is so royal to be 
blood kinsman of earth and sky and to salute 
them in answer to their speed and rush and 
glory. 
So on drove the driver and on walked the 
driven (to wit, myself). The splendid apocalypse 
girded me about. To the last molecule of me I 
felt the appeal of an earth eagering to grow 
harvests for the world. Not a thought of fret 
or anger at the labor of it, only supreme glad- 
ness at the heavenly endeavor of it. 
And then came the gust of wonder, a red 
clover field, affluent in bloom with a tropic 
