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The clipping this text was read from
The clipping this text was read from

Now I knew why I walked with such delight in autumn woods. The rustling sound of my passage is now tied to the pleasure of a brilliant young naturalist who loved trees as I did. Kit went on to a fine career in conservation with The Nature Conservancy. I wonder where he is now? Does he still listen to his passage through dry leaves?

Robert Frost's short poem which begins wjth "The same leaves over and over again!" ends

. "However it is in some other world

1 know that this is the way in ours."

And, thankfully, my world.

John Trott welcomes reader comment at P.O. Box 515, Flint Hill, Va. 22627.

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