NUTTY AUTUMN 131 



crop yonder, which was recently a bright colour, is fast 

 turning brown, too. 



Here and there a thin layer of brown leaves rustles 

 under foot. The scaling bark on the lower part of the 

 tree trunks is brown. Dry dock stems, fallen branches 

 the very shadows, are not black, but brown. With red 

 hips and haws, red bryony and woodbine berries, these 

 together cause the sense rather than the actual existence 

 of a tawny tint. It is pleasant; but sunset comes so 

 soon, and then after the trees are in shadow beneath, 

 the yellow spots at the tops of the elms still receive the 

 light from the west a few moments longer. 



There is something nutty in the short autumn day 

 shorter than its duration as measured by hours, for the 

 enjoyable day is between the clearing of the mist and 

 the darkening of the shadows. The nuts are ripe, and 

 with them is associated wine and fruit. They are hard 

 but tasteful ; if you eat one, you want ten, and after ten, 

 twenty. In the wine there is a glow, a spot like tawny 

 sunlight ; it falls on your hand as you lift the glass. 



They are never really nuts unless you gather them 

 yourself. Put down the gun a minute or two, and pull 

 the boughs this way. One or two may drop of them- 

 selves as the branch is shaken, one among the brambles, 

 another outwards into the stubble. The leaves rustle 

 against hat and shoulders ; a thistle is crushed under 

 foot, and the down at last released. Bines of bryony 

 hold the ankles, and hazel boughs are stiff and not ready 

 to bend to the will. This large brown nut must be 

 cracked at once ; the film slips off the kernel, which is 

 white underneath. It is sweet. 



The tinted sunshine comes through between the tall 

 hazel rods ; there is a grasshopper calling in the sward 

 on the other side of the mound. The bird's nest in the 



