84 BIRDS AND MAN 



seem instinct with spirit. But it is not so. If 

 the conditions be favourable, if we go to our soH- 

 tude as the crystal-gazer to his crystal, with a 

 mind prepared, this faculty is capable of awaking 

 and taking complete possession of us by day as 

 well as by night. 



As the trees are mostly beeches — miles upon 

 miles of great trees, many of them hoUow-trunked 

 from age and decay — the fallen leaves are an im- 

 portant element in the forest scenery. They lie 

 half a yard to a yard deep in all the deep hollows 

 and dells and old water-worn channels, and where 

 the ground is sheltered they cover acres of ground 

 — millions and myriads of dead, fallen beech leaves. 

 These, too, always seem to be alive. It is a leaf 

 that refuses to die wholly. When separated from 

 the tree it has, if not immortality, at all events a 

 second, longer life. Oak and ash and chestnut 

 leaves fade from month to month and blacken, 

 and finally rot and mingle with the earth, while 

 the beech leaf keeps its sharp clean edges unbroken, 

 its hard texture and fiery colour, its buoyancy 

 and rustling incisive sound. Swept by the autumn 

 winds into sheltered hollows and beaten down by 

 rains, the leaves lie mingled in one dead, sodden 

 mass for days and weeks at a time, and appear 



