126 THE NATURE-STUDY IDEA 



brook and I grew further apart. We are coming 

 together again now. It is no misdemeanor to get 

 wet if you feel that you are not spoiling your clothing. 

 One's happiness is largely a question of clothes. 



But the brook is one degree the better now just 

 because it remains a brook all winter. The winter 

 is the best season of the four because there is more 

 mystery in it. Things are hidden ; yet there is a 

 new and strange spirit in the air. There are strange 

 bird-calls in the depths of the still, white woods. 

 There are strange marks in the new-fallen snow. 

 There are soft noises when the snow drops from the 

 trees. There are grotesque figures on the old 

 fence. There is the warm brown pathway of the 

 brook still winding up between oozing banks. In 

 the spring there are troops of flower-gatherers along 

 the brook. In the summer there are fishers at the 

 deep pools. In the fall there are nut-gatherers and 

 aimless wanderers. In the winter the brook and I 

 are alone. We know. 



Most of us, I fear, look upon winter with some 

 feeling of dread and apprehension. It is to be 

 endured. This feeling is partly due to the immense 

 change that comes with the approach of winter. 

 The trees are bare. The leaves are drifting into 

 the fence-rows. The birds have flown. The 

 deserted country roads stretch away into leaden 

 skies. The lines of the landscape become hard 

 and sharp. Gusty winds scurry over the fields. It 

 is the turn of the year. 



To many persons, however, the dread of winter, 

 or the lack of enjoyment in it, is a question of 



