in Thoreau’s Journal:

To perceive freshly, with fresh senses is to be inspired. Great winter itself looked like a precious gem reflecting rainbow colors from one angle. My body is all sentient. As I go here or there, I am tickled by this or that I come into contact with, as if I touched the wires of a battery. I can generally recall, have fresh in my mind, several scratches last received. These I continually recall to mind, reimpress and harp upon.

The ago of miracles is each moment thus returned; now it is wild apples, now river reflections, now a flock of red-polls. In winter too, resides immortal youth and perennial summer.