I read his journal almost every day. I find comfort, grounding and refreshment in his writing. I am in awe of this gift he left the world. The way he savored nature is a north star to me. He writes of sitting under a bridge in his rowboat looking at a moth; of ice skating on the river at 10 o'clock on a February night; of eating watermelon while huckleberrying with friends; of finding a stray kitten; of his neighbor who gets pleasure out of each task he does around his farm. I like the way he is never sentimental, but yet writes of deeply moving experiences. He was so true to himself. I get the feeling that others took him to be "difficult". Each entry in his journal, even from the very beginning when he was 20 years old, is so rich with insight and careful observation. If I could be one tenth as engaged in life as he was, I would count my life a success.