NURSLINGS OF THE SKY 



to the ruined cliff and paced the night out 

 before it, crying a very human woe. I re- 

 member, too, in that same season of storms, 

 a lake made milky white for days, and 

 crowded out of its bed by clay washed into 

 it by a fury of rain, with the trout floating 

 in it belly up, stunned by the shock of the 

 sudden flood. But there were trout enough 

 for what was left of the lake next year and 

 the beginning of a meadow about its upper 

 rim. What taxed me most in the wreck 

 of one of my favorite canons by cloud- 

 burst was to see a bobcat mother mouth- 

 ing her drowned kittens in the ruined lair 

 built in the wash, far above the limit of ac- 

 customed waters, but not far enough for 

 the unexpected. After a time you get the 

 point of view of gods about these things to 

 save you from being too pitiful. 



The great snows that come at the be- 

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