98 NATURE NEAR LONDON. 



shine through the usual atmosphere, as if its former 

 blue became translucent, and an inner and ethereal 

 light of colour was shown. As the sun rises higher 

 the brilliance of his rays overpowers it, and even at 

 midsummer it is but rarely seen. 



The morning sky is often, too, charged with saffron, 

 or the blue is clear, but pale, and the sunrise might 

 be watched for many mornings without the appearance 

 of this exquisite hue. Once seen, it will ever be 

 remembered. Upon the Downs in early autumn, 

 as the vapours clear away, the same colour occa- 

 sionally gleams from the narrow openings of blue 

 sky. But at midsummer, above the opening wheat- 

 ears, the heaven from the east to the zenith is flushed 

 with it. 



At noonday, as the light breeze comes over, the 

 wheat rustles the more because the stalks are 

 stiffening and swing from side to side from the root 

 instead of yielding up the stem. Stay now at every 

 gateway and lean over while the midsummer hum 

 sounds above. It is a peculiar sound, not like the 

 querulous buzz of the honey, nor the drone of the 

 humble bee, but a sharp ringing resonance like that 

 of a tuning-fork. Sometimes, in the far away country 

 where it is often much louder, the folk think it has 

 a threatening note. 



Here the barley has taken a different tint now the 

 beard is out ; here the oats are straggling forth from 

 their sheath; here a pungent odour of mustard in 

 flower comes on the air ; there a poppy faints with 

 broad petals flung back and drooping, unable to uphold 

 its gorgeous robes. The flower of the field pea, here 



