THE HEAT OF THE SUN 



THE general verdure of English summers gives an added 

 vividness to the tanned landscapes of drought which recur 

 every few seasons some time between May and September. 

 The grass in the open fields loses every glint of green ; from 

 a ridge of hills overlooking a clay plain only the bronzed 

 hedges and the brighter line of the sedges by the winding 

 rivers diversify the dull papery whiteness of the burnt-up 

 pastures. Under the torrid sun the whitey-brownness of the 

 dead grass is some shades paler than we see it in March 

 after a frosty winter ; and now there is the contrast of the 

 green boughs of trees and bushes, whereas in March the 

 boughs are bare. This contrast gives the landscape a topsy- 

 turvy look, as if in a photographic negative. We are 

 accustomed to see the full body of colour in the sward, with 

 the green of the trees of less importance ; but now colour 

 has fled to the boughs, and the earth is blank of verdure, 

 and has only a stricken sense of drought. 



Stridently green as the trees appear against pastures 

 turned to biscuit colour, they wear a very different green 

 from their full verdure of May. In every summer there is 

 a date when the trees suddenly become dark and bronzed, 



