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“The river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at last to the insatiable sea.”
In Chapter I, the Mole meets the river for the first time, and he is enthralled. Its music speaks to his heart about all the adventures he has never had but that this new, aboveground world promises to him. To the Mole, it seems endless and miraculous. He retains this attitude toward nature throughout the novel, even when he is imperiled in the Wild Wood or confronting the stoats in preparation for battle. It makes him a likable character in spite of his flaws, and it gives the book a lively, optimistic tone.
“Such a rich chapter it had been, when one came to look back on it all! With illustrations so numerous and so very highly coloured!”
As the Mole and the Water Rat sit in his den in Chapter III during winter’s deep darkness, they remember the joys of summer. Even in memory, nature’s bounty gives them treasures to explore and contemplate, providing them with entertainment and solace even in the cold and damp. Just like a bountiful harvest, nature allows its provisions to be stored up for later use, even if those provisions are food for the imagination rather than the body. Nature provides for all of her denizens’ needs, whether they be physical, emotional, or intellectual. As long as the characters are willing to interact with, explore, and appreciate what nature has to offer, they have this bountiful resource at their disposal.
“It was pitiful in a way, and yet cheering—even exhilarating. He was glad that he liked the country undecorated, hard, and stripped of its finery. He had got down to the bare bones of it, and they were fine and strong and simple.”
In Chapter III, the Mole makes his way through the Wild Wood to find the Badger. He leaves behind his memories of summer’s pageantry and encounters the harsh reality of nature in winter. It lacks the lush meadow grass or the thick, forgiving hedgerows in which a small animal can hide. The trees have no foliage to shield him from the sky’s bleak expanse. No flowers decorate the path. Instead, the Mole sees stark tree trunks, fallen debris, and hard rock. Nevertheless, he appreciates the world in its simplicity. It has nothing to hide, and it’s not a fantasy built on a cloud. It’s a strong, solid world from which he can draw strength.
