212 FOOTING IT IN FRANCONIA 



Earth . takes care of her children. She 

 raises elm seeds as man raises wheat. And 

 foolish man wonders sometimes at what he 

 thinks her waste of vital energy. 



I have found a seat upon a prostrate 

 maple trunk, one of the fathers of the grove, 

 so huge of girth that it was almost a gym- 

 nastic feat to climb into my position. Here 

 I can see the valley and the mountains only 

 in parts, between the leafy intervening 

 branches. Which way of seeing is the bet- 

 ter I will not seek to determine. Both are 

 good both are better than either. A fly- 

 catcher near me is saying chebec with such 

 emphasis that though I cannot see him I 

 can imagine that he is almost snapping his 

 head off at every utterance. Much farther 

 away is a relative of his ; we call him 

 the olive-side. (I wonder what name the 

 birds have for us.) Que-quee-o, he whistles 

 in the clearest of tones. He is one of the 

 good ones. And how well his voice " car- 

 ries" as if one grove were speaking to 

 another! 



About my feet are creamy white tiarella 

 spires and pretty blue violets. The air is 



