SPRING DAWN 



close below the horizon, had forced into 

 bloom red tulips and blue and yellow 

 crocuses of spring dawn. From the ice 

 ridges it was all as unreal as if it were 

 hung in a frozen gallery, and I were 

 an unwilling tourist shivering as I ob- 

 served it. 



Again, I had to go but a short distance 

 to find a new country. Here the warmer 

 waters of a little brook came babbling 

 down the slope and had pushed away all 

 the ice ridges and warmed its own path 

 far out into the new ice. Along its edge 

 the alder catkins hung in grouped tassels 

 of Venetian red, and here and there a 

 group had so thrilled to the warmth of 

 the running water that even in the face 

 of the cold wind they had begun to relax 

 a bit and show cracks in the varnished 

 surface that has kept the stamens secure 

 all winter. 



37 



