He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter.... In winter the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity.

Burroughs contrasts the lush obviousness of summer beauty with winter’s austere clarity, arguing that wonder is a habit of perception rather than a response to abundance. Winter, in his view, strips the landscape to essentials and thereby heightens what remains: the night sky appears sharper, the stars brighter, the moon more commanding, and the heavens “simpler” in a way that feels elevated rather than impoverished. The passage invites readers to resist seasonal prejudice—to see barrenness as another mode of richness—and to cultivate attentiveness that can find grandeur in restraint, quiet, and cold light.