in Thoreau’s Journal:

My home is as much of nature as my heart embraces.  If I only warm my house, then is that only my home.

But if I sympathize with the heats and colds, the sounds and silence of nature, and share the repose and equanimity that reign around me in the fields, then are they my house, as much as if the kettle sang and fagots crackled, and the clock ticked on the wall.