The Naturalists

[Long Beep] [Long Beep] [short beep] [Series of short beeps] [Short beeps continued] [Birds singing] [Jacques Aubuchon, voice of John Burroughs] A man must invest himself near at hand and in common things and be content with

a steady and moderate return. If he would know the blessedness of a cheerful heart and the sweetness of a walk over the round earth. This is a lesson the American has yet to learn. Capability of amusement in a low-key. We crave the astonishing, the exciting, the far away, and do not know the highways of the gods when we see them. Always a sign of the decay of the faith and the simplicity of man. [Train whistle in the background] How far are we from home? [Train whistle continues in the background] [Bob Gladstone, Narrator] Those were John Burroughs' last words on the train. Only 12 hours away from his beloved home in the Catskills. His last thoughts of home, as so many of his thoughts had been. He was hurrying home to see Spring come again to the land he loved, to celebrate another April birthday.

[Burroughs] I think April is the best month to be born in. One is just in time, so to speak, to catch the first train which is made up in this month. In April, all nature starts with you. [Birds singing] [Gladstone] John Burroughs returned to his native earth on April 3rd, 1921, his 84th birthday. Friends and relatives attending; a nation mourning. He had been the companion of a president, a friend of the famous of his time. Schools and nature societies bore his name. He had written 27 books and dozens of articles and essays recording his observations of a life time lived in close contact with the earth. He had led thousands of readers on nature walks revealing her secrets and delights, as no other American writer. [Burroughs] The most precious things in life are near at hand,

without money and without price. Each of you has the whole wealth of the universe at your very door. All that I ever had, or still have, may be yours by stretching forth your hands and taking it. [Birds singing] [Gladstone] He was laid to rest here, beside his favorite rock, where he had played and dreamed as a boy. Where he had often sat gazing over the land he had sprung from. [Crickets chirping] [Burroughs] Oh my native hills; Will they ever mean to anyone else what they have meant to me? Once in a hundred years, perhaps, one might come to whom they would mean as much. Others have loved them, of course, but not as I have loved them, yearned over them, drawn my inspiration from them. These hills are like mother and father to me. [Crickets continuing to chirp in background] I was born at Roxbury, New York, April 3rd, 1837.

I was the son of a farmer, who was the son of a farmer, who was again the son of a farmer. There are no professional or commercial men in my line for several generations. My blood has the flavor of the soil in it. [Crickets continue to chirp] [Gladstone] His parents had settled on this sloping farmland near old clumped mountain, not far from his grandparents home. His roots went deep into the countryside and his environment clothed him as a mantle. It stamped itself upon his soul. It caused him often to wonder how he could be so different from the rest, springing as he did from a long line of Welsh Irish farmers. Simple, religious, hardworking, distrustful of book learning in all its facets. [Burroughs] I've had to accomplish in myself the work of several generations. None of my ancestors were men and women of culture, knew nothing of books. [Birds singing] [Gladstone] John shared with his father and brothers most of the farm chores.

In those days, Delaware County, New York was mainly dairy land and the Burroughs farm, like most of the others, relied for much of its income on buttermaking and work revolved around caring for the cows. [Burroughs] I have a sort of filial regard for the cow. She seems, in a remote kind of way, like the old family nurse. My memory is fragrant with the breath of cattle. [Cows mooing in the background, birds singing] [Gladstone] From the beginning, John had been alert to everything around him. He was seven when a strange bird he saw in the beech woods prompted him to ask his brothers what its name was. And to his surprise they neither knew nor cared. [Birds singing] It was the practice of most farmers in those days to shoot or trap whatever wild game crossed their path. It had always been plentiful. As a youth, John had seen the great flocks of passenger pigeons fly over his father's farm and

swoop into the beech woods to feed. Grabbing a musket and intent on a kill, he once crouched to watch, sitting motionless, waiting, listening, fascinated, until a chance to shoot was missed. Perhaps ??Johnno birds?? was born that day. [Burroughs] Natural history was a subject unknown to me in my boyhood. And such a thing as nature study in the schools was of course unheard of. Our natural history we got unconsciously in the sport at noontime, or on our way to and from school, or in our Sunday excursions to the streams and woods. [Gladstone] Still, his appetite for learning remained keen and he determined to earn money for further education by teaching school. It was in April when at 17 he climbed aboard a stagecoach and started out on his first journey from home. [Sound of stagecoach moving] In miles, it was not far to Tongore to the little red schoolhouse where he was to

teach. But it sparked the homesick longings that were to accompany every future journey John made. For the next several years, he combined the months of teaching with a return to the home farm in Summer to work and read and to begin to keep a journal of his thoughts. [Birds chirping] [Burroughs] Oh those days of youth, when I was so taken with words, words, words. I had no ideas of my own. [Gladstone] But they were beginning to take shape. He was beginning to buy books and to find minds that were his own: Carlyle, Emerson, Shakespeare, Whitman. He was learning about writing and beginning to write himself and he was thinking deeply. [Burroughs] thinking is like catching pigeons with a net. You may pull your rope ever so quick sometimes, and catch nothing but a feather.

[Narrator] Some of these thoughts kept returning to a young student, Ursula North, whom he had met in ??Tang Gore??. He interrupted his teaching in September 1857 to marry her. Practical, energetic, and thrifty, she proved a balance to John in some ways. But, she could never understand or encourage his deepest dreams or his writing. For several years Burroughs struggled between farm work and teaching. But he had not yet found a way to do the thing he loved best. [Sound of river running] [Burroughs] Every man has an inlet into the great deep, if you will only keep it open and free from sticks and rubbish. In youth, the passage is free. But the cares and business of the world soon clog and choke it up, so that we become a little muddy-bay, cut off from the great ocean. A man's soul can only be kept pure and healthy by a constant reception of truth.

Or at least a free communion with the truth. [Sounds of birds, crickets, and frogs by a creek] [Narrator] The summer of Morrow's life was beginning. There was still the frustration of an uncertain livelihood. But the fruits of his reading and his philosophy were beginning to ripen. He was coming more and more under the influence of Emerson and had written an essay called, "Expression". The editor of The Atlantic, James Russell Lowell, helped to strengthen Burroughs faith in himself by accepting and publishing it in 1860. John began to write a series of sketches about what he knew best: Farm life and nature. He had found his own work at the age of 22. [Birds chirping] [Burroughs] There're so many ways by which nature may be come at. So many sides to her, whether by bird, or insect, or flower, by hunting, or science. When one thing is really known you can no longer be

deceived. You possess a key, a standard, you affect an entrance, and everything else links on, and follows. [Gladstone] It was in the library at West Point that Burroughs chanced on Audubon's works. [Burroughs] How eagerly and joyously I took up the study of birds. It fitted in so well with my country tastes and breeding. It turned my enthusiasm as a sportsman into a new channel. [Narrator] An old friend, ??E.M. Allen??, persuaded John to come to Washington where he could help him find employment. He was lured to the city not only by the chance to escape the drudgery of teaching, but by his hope of meeting Walt Whitman, whom he called The Poet Of The Cosmos. He went to work first at the Quartermaster's department and later as Treasury clerk in the Currency Bureau. [Sound of river running] He completed his first bird article here and Atlantic published it in spring,

1865. [Burroughs] Just think of it: While the battle of Gettysburg was being fought, I was in the woods, studying the birds. [Sound of birds singing] At last ??Allen?? arranged a meeting with Whitman, one of the greatest influences in Burroughs life. [Burroughs] Walt and I met two or three times a week over a mug of ale, or a peck of oysters. Often his talk is so rich and suggested that he sets every faculty in me on the alert. [Narrator] Whitman was forty-four Burroughs twenty-six, and at a crucial time in his career. "Rest not till you publish your own personality", had been Whitman's advice. [Burroughs] I loved Walt as I never loved any man. We were companionable without talking. [Gladstone] Whitman suggested the title for Burroughs' First Nature book, "Wake-Robin", published in

1871. Part of it drawn from Sunday walks near the city. [Burroughs] One goes to nature only for hints and half truths. Of facts accrued until you have absorbed them or translated them. Is not so much what we see, as what it suggests. [Gladstone] The Treasury Office sent him on business on his first trip abroad. The magnificence of London, meeting Carlyle, and enjoying the countryside mostly on foot. All the impressions became distilled into his writing. [Burroughs] Your pedestrian is always cheerful, alert, refreshed. His pores are all open, his circulation is active, his digestion good. He is the only real traveler. He knows the ground is alive. He feels the pulses of the wind and reads the mute language of things. He experiences the country he passes through.

[Gladstone] The hunger for a country place of his own was becoming unbearable. And after 9 years in the city, he resigned his position and began to realize his dream. He would build a house called "Riverby" on a 9 acre site along the west bank of the Hudson, handy to home, at Roxbury. He personally selected choice woods for the interiors, overseeing the Masons, and tackling some of the work himself. [Burroughs] One of the greatest pleasures of life was to build a home for oneself. It seems to me I build into my house every one of those superb autumn days which I spent in the woods getting out stone. Every load carried my heart and happiness with it. [Sound of a lively woods] [Gladstone] In spite of effort and care, the house was discovered to have many faults. Ursula took to housekeeping with a vengeance, unhappy with the clutter of his, "scribbling", as she called it. He took to writing at the top of the stairs in a drafty

study and was cheered by the visits of friends, and especially by the birth of his son, Julian. [Sound of birds calling] The site near the river gave him opportunity to observe migrating birds and the Southern Exposure proved ideal for growing berries, peaches, pears, and grapes, which he raised and marketed over the years at a good profit. [Bird calls continue] These were happy days for Burroughs but, the child was growing noisy and the little upstairs room did not give him the undisturbed quiet he needed. He sought refuge by building a rustic one room study a few yards below the house. He called it his Bark Covered Study, and it proved a good place to write and read. [Burroughs] I have discovered the secret of happiness. It is work either with the hands or the head.

Something to do. It is the only safe and sure ground of happiness. But trouble is generally that we do not know when we are happy. I wonder if there's another so-called literary man who spends his time as I do in the solitude of the country amid the common people. Here I sit alone in my little study perched upon a broad slope of the Hudson. My light visible from afar reading an hour or two each evening and then to bed at 9. [Train whistle] The world goes by me a far off. I hear its roar and hubbub, but care little to mingle in it. [Train whistle on and off in the background] It is mostly vanity and vexation of spirit. [Gladstone] Burroughs had always thought of himself as a lucky man. Good fortune always seemed in correct balance with whatever sadness there was to bear. The painful

loss of his mother, and then his father, and later of Emerson was eased by another trip to England this time with his family. But returning to Riverby he found that the demands of household, the noises about him, the river traffic and the railroad, pricked him into seeking an even more distant retreat. [Train whistle and birds singing] Near Riverby, he and Julian had come across the setting for the rustic cabin he had dreamed of. It was a dream many men have had, of clearing their own land making, their own furniture, cooking meals in the fireplace. John Burroughs kept as much of the natural as was possible in building it. A neighbor suggested its name, Slabsides, and he settled happily into this new sanctuary in the Spring of 1896. [Burroughs] Blessed Slabsides. It is indeed a house a refuge to me.

[Gladstone] He could spend his summers here. Turning over the work in the vineyards to others, returning to Riverby when the weather turned cold. Discovering that the closer he came to nature the more he was able to sustain himself. [Burroughs] I think I have a certain strength and positiveness of character, but lack egoism. This weakness of the I in me is probably a great help to me as a writer upon nature. I can surrender myself to nature without effort. I am like her. [Gladstone] Ironically, his retreat was beginning to attract visitors just as his writing was attracting attention and inspiring a new appreciation of nature in America. [Burroughs] John Muir came last night. Julian and I met him at Hyde Park. A very interesting man. A bit prolix at times. You must not be in a hurry

or have any pressing duty when you start his stream of talk and adventure. [Gladstone] Burroughs had written two books in Washington, 25 more followed gradually over the years. The long and fruitful autumn of Burroughs life was beginning. The fruits from his farm were making life richer for him. Allowing him more time for writing, providing funds to send Julian to Harvard. Journeys to Hawaii, Bermuda, Jamaica, and California found their way into the fertile soil of his mind. And onto the pages of essays and books that were being read all over the country. Burroughs was disturbed by the current popularity of nature fakers. Those who imbued nature with false characteristics and motives. [Burroughs] To treat your facts with imagination is one thing. To imagine your facts is quite another.

[Gladstone] His essay on this subject, in the Atlantic, was admired by Theodore Roosevelt who invited Burroughs to accompany him on a camping trip into Yellowstone Park in April of 1903. Ohm John, as the President affectionately called him, often visited Roosevelt at Oyster Bay and at the White House. Burroughs returned home feeling his creative energy at a low end. Of his books fresh from the publisher, he remarked, [Burroughs] I looked him over with a sigh. For a quarter of a century I've been writing these books. Living them first, and then writing them out. What serene joy I've had in gathering this honey. And now I begin to feel it is about over with me. My interest, my curiosity are getting blunted. [Gladstone] But in his wisdom he also observed that some startling circumstance

sweeps away the ashes and we blaze up again. One such circumstance was the arrival of a new friend, Dr. Clara Barrus. She became, for the last 20 years of his life, his physician, typist, editor, proofreader, biographer. And it was she who accompanied him on another great exploration with John Muir to the Grand Canyon and Yosemite. It was 1909. Muir was eager for Burroughs to climb the mountains and get their good tidings. [Burroughs] Yosemite won my heart at once. I'm sure Robin the first I had seen since leaving home did his part where the Robin is at home. There at home am I. There's something almost pathetic in the fact that the birds remain forever the same. You grow old, your friends die or move to distant lands, events sweep on and all things are changed. Yet there in your garden or orchard

are the birds of your boyhood. The same notes, the same calls. And to all intents and purposes the identical birds endowed with perennial youth. [Gladstone] Those were the years when honorary degrees were conferred upon him by Yale and Colgate. When hundreds of schoolchildren were writing to him about their discoveries of nature through his essays. He tried to find time daily for writing and gardening and keeping in touch with his source of strength. [Burroughs] Joy in the universe and keen curiosity about it all, that has been my religion. As I grow old my joy and my interest in it increase. Less and less of the world of men interest me. More and more to my thoughts turned to things universal and everlasting. What world all forces have left their marks there, in the lines, in the

color? I want no better pastime now from my boyhood as I am than to spend a part of a Summer or Autumn day amid these rocks. [Gladstone] Few men have been as blessed in old age with so much that is permanent and unchanging. Burroughs health and spirits continued strong. He continued to enjoy writing and his books were more popular than ever. Yet as his fame grew so did the honors and the interruptions of visitors. He was spurred to retreat once more. He wrote from Roxbury to his son. [Burroughs] I'm going to fix up the old farmhouse and have a comfortable place to come to. And where you and Emily and the children can come. We will all live longer for it. [Gladstone] In the Autumn of 1910 he set about repairing and making furniture for the old farmhouse, half a mile from his boyhood home. Fulfilling a dream and a

yearning for the scenes of his youth. He called the place Woodchuck Lodge, in honor of the persistent natives abounding there. [Burroughs] I've studied the woodchuck all my life and there's no getting to the bottom of him. [Gladstone] Here he could sleep in the open on the porch often until October. Write in the mornings. Portrait painters and sculptors came to immortalize him in oil and bronze. And the famous still sought his companionship. [Burroughs] I had a surprising letter. Mr. Ford, of automobile fame, is a great admirer of my books. Says there are a few persons in the world who have given him the pleasure I have. He wants to present me with a Ford automobile all complete. [Gladstone] It was the beginning of a new and helpful friendship. Ford enjoyed the simple life at Woodchuck Lodge, and later would lend financial support to help keep it in the family. It was 1917.

[Burroughs] I wake up in the night and groan in spirit over the carnage in Europe. Civilization seems to have done nothing toward eradicating greed and selfishness among the races. For nations to live together as brothers and neighbors seems out of the question. [Gladstone] But once more with the coming of April he began to be renewed. His birthday produced a deluge of messages and gifts. [Burroughs] What an eventful period of the world I have lived in, in invention, in literature in science. The telephones, wireless, the airplane the beginning of Darwinism. I knew Lincoln and touched his hand. I lived through the Civil War. And now I have lived to see this war end. [Wind blowing] [Gladstone] In the fast changing world about him, what had sustained his faith and nurtured his genius, was coming to mean less and less to modern man.

[Burroughs] One cannot but reflect with a sucked orange the earth will be in the course of a few centuries. As civilization is terribly expensive to all its natural resources. One hundred year of modern life doubtless exhausted stores more than a millennium of the life of antiquity. Its mineral wealth will be greatly depleted. The fertility of its soil will have been washed into the sea through the drainage of its cities. Its' wild game will be nearly extinct. Its' primitive forests dug. And soon how nearly bankrupt the planet will be. [Gladstone] He tried to awaken readers to these concerns in pieces he wrote for The Atlantic. [Burroughs] The rioters' wasteful and destructive spirit has been turned loose on this continent. And it has used the weapons which physical science has placed in its hands in a brutal devil-may-care sort of way. [Car, city noise in the background] With the

result of the nature, fertile and beautiful, has been outraged and disfigured and impoverished, rather than mellowed, subdued and humanized. [Gladstone] With the news of the death of Theodore Roosevelt, he felt the world even more bleak and cold. Roosevelt had helped to warm it and to keep the currents going. His friends urged him to spend the winter once again in California. Leaving home this time, was the most difficult of all. [Birds singing] He had told his friends on a walk, that last day together, that he'd be here again. Here by his boyhood rock in the spring. Even though you don't see me. [Birds singing] [Birds singing] [Birds singing]

[Birds singing] [Birds singing] [Birds singing] [Birds singing] [Birds singing] [Birds singing] [Birds singing] Made possible by a grant from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. [Birds singing] [Music] This is PBS. [Unidentified person from KRMA program, This Old House] How could a prospector such as myself actually come out today, file a claim and

start hauling some of this beautiful rock back to Boston? [Host of This Old House] Well you know if I was back at the shop ran 50 clamps so I'd certainly glued all the face frames up before I go back into the kitchen. But I got another way, come on, grab these biscuits and we'll go back to the kitchen.[Unidentified person] Alright. This I gotta see. [Stone worker] I like taking off a little bit at a time because you can always take a little more off, but you can't put any back. [Announcer] Funding for This Old House is provided by State Farm Insurance. [Music] Keeping our promise of protection with Auto, Home, Life and Health insurance. Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there. And by Parks Corporation, makers of safe and simple environmentally responsible stains and finishes that enrich, protect and preserve the natural beauty of wood. [Unidentified person #2] Hey Jim. [Jim Asher, homeowner] Hi Steve. [Unidentified person #2] What are you doing? [Asher] My job. [Unidentified person #2] Yeah, well this ought to make you pretty happy. [Asher] Oh, is this my new restaurant stuff? [Unidentified person#2] Yeah, that's it.

Joanna tells me you're the chef in the family and she also promises me that you're going to make some fabulous nuevo Mexican cuisine in the last show. [Asher] Oh,I promise. Steve I promise. [Unidentified person#2] Great. The real success story this week, however, is the flagstone. [Asher] Isn't that stuff beautiful? [Unidentified person#2] Oh, it's absolutely superb. I understand they use a lot of this here in Santa Fe. [Asher]Yeah, they do Steve, but you know the guy that's putting ours down is the best in town. And it's just fabulous. [Unidentified person#2] Yeah, and your artist studio is absolutely superb. This is just become my most coveted flooring material. [Asher] Isn't this great Steve? [Unidentified person#2] Oh, it's lovely. [Asher] You know ,five years ago when we built this studio we wanted to put in flagstone, but we just didn't have the means to do it. And now with the radiant heating in under it and the flagstone down and everything in place, we're just thrilled. [Unidentified person#2] Well I want to see how it goes in because it's such a good job. But before we do that let me take you to Arizona to see where it comes from.