Often when there is a dark cloud bank in the west, I squint my eyes 

 and pretend it is the Rocky Mountains. 



Many songs are of places for which some men have great attachment: 

 songs of the prairies, the hills and the rivers of home. Homeland has been 

 inspiration for the poet; the artist paints this land he knows best. When 

 a man hears the melodies, reads the poetry, or sees pictures of home, he 

 cannot suppress nostalgia; for no matter where this place may be, all man- 

 kind has an inborn attachment to the region of early experience. 



Crossing the Susquehanna at Havre de Grace was always the highlight 

 of my ride home from college at the Christmas holidays. Usually some 

 Canvasback were in sight of the bridge, and once they were strewn down 

 the river as far as I could see. Every wildfowler knows of the Susquehan- 

 na's Canvasback, and Heilner (1939) says that in the old days they some- 

 times "looked like plumes of smoke when they got up." A century earlier 



218 



