2 1 6 Walks in New England 



Gliding Into Indian Summer 



THIS glorious first autumn of the twentieth 

 century advances with almost unexampled 

 beauty, and we now see and feel the ex 

 traordinary charm of a brilliant October gliding 

 imperceptibly into the gracious loveliness of the 

 Indian summer, the summer of All Saints, 

 whose festival is this day. Such days as the last 

 Sunday and yesterday are typical of Indian sum 

 mer, with its singular atmospheric conditions in 

 full character, the far-echoing transmission of 

 remote sounds, the brooding peace and the vapoury 

 distances in which clouds and hills melt together, 

 and through the vistas of the woodland gleam like 

 spiritual transfigurations the yellow young maples 

 and the translucent red cornels, making a fairy 

 realm of inexpressible beauty, at once bright and 

 soft, the magical tenderness of a divine expres 

 sion of harmony. Not every year do we behold 

 this infinite concinnity ; it would be the less 

 thought of, the less esteemed, were it not so rare. 

 Nature is never lacking in dear and intimate phases 



