When I’m feeling a bit crazed and caught up in this (kind of) chic, urban, fast-paced, (sort of) young professional life that I live, I call on an old friend and he calms me down. Technically, John Burroughs and I are not friends… and, welp, he died in 1921. Moreover, he would have found me ridiculous. And annoying. But I do Yahoo him on the reg; his writing calms me…
