160 NATURE NEAR LONDON 



endless carriages that roll to and fro like the flicker of 

 a mighty fire; it streaks the side of the street with | 

 rosiness. The faces of those who are passing are lit 

 up by it, all unconscious as they are. The sky above 

 London, indeed, is as full of interest as above the hills. 

 Lunar rainbows occasionally occur; two to my know- 

 ledge were seen in the direction and apparently over the 

 metropolis recently. 



When a few minutes on the rail has carried you out- 

 side the hub as it were of London, among the quiet tree- 

 skirted villas, the night reigns as completely as in the 

 solitudes of the country. Perhaps even more so, for the 

 solitude is somehow more apparent. The last theatre- 

 goer has disappeared inside his hall door, the last dull 

 roll of the brougham, with its happy laughing load, has 

 died away there is not so much as a single footfall. 

 The cropped holly hedges, the leafless birches, the limes 

 and acacias are still and distinct in the moonlight. A 

 few steps farther out on the highway the copse or 

 plantation sleeps in utter silence. 



But the tall elms are the most striking ; the length of 

 the branches and their height above brings them across 

 the light, so that they stand out even more shapely than 

 when in leaf. The blue sky (not, of course, the blue of 

 day), the white moonlight, the bright stars larger at 

 midnight and brilliant, in despite of the moon, which 

 cannot overpower them in winter as she does in summer 

 evenings all are as beautiful as on the distant hills of 

 old. By night, at least, even here, in the still silence, 

 Heaven has her own way. 



When the oak leaves first begin to turn buff, and 

 the first acorns drop, the redwings arrive, and their 

 " kuk-kuk " sound in the hedges and the shrubberies 

 in the gardens of suburban villas. They seem to come 



