OCTOBER DAYS 



Single Red Maples, here and there particularly 

 young trees in swamps, are entirely colored, but 

 the Sugar-Maples are still content to show a 

 branch of glowing tints among their prevailing 

 green. 



The Ashes are here and there showing their 

 unique purple-bronze, the Woodbine billows over 

 the fences or climbs to the tree-tops, a combina- 

 tion of wondrous reds, but the Oaks are green, 

 strong, virile, giving no sign of weakness, and 

 the Willows are like summer. Nevertheless, 

 to the observer the fact is clear that the leaves 

 no longer have a vital function to perform, that 

 their work is done, and what we are about to 

 see is the grand shifting of the stage from active 

 life to the sleep of winter. 



At this point October becomes to many people 

 a state of mind. Day by day the great trans- 

 formation scene progresses, almost from hour 

 to hour the world forsakes its green, and the 

 surface of the earth begins to flash like a prism 

 and gleam like an opal. 



It is now that one surrenders oneself to the 



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