December 12, 1840 in Thoreau’s Journal:
The young pines springing up in the cornfields from year to year are to me a much more refreshing fact than the most abundant harvests. My last stronghold is the forest.
December 12, 1851 in Thoreau’s Journal:
Ah, dear nature, the mere remembrance, after a short forgetfulness, of the pine woods! I come to it as a hungry man to a crust of bread.
December 12, 1859 in Thoreau’s Journal:
The night comes on early these days, and I soon see the pine tree tops distinctly outlined against the…cold western sky.