248 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



the approach thereto is not to be overlooked be- 

 cause we are bent upon penetrating its recesses. 

 Against the dark background of my present 

 outlook, formed by the rim of a small but 

 ancient wood, I see the restless herons that 

 look black as crows, passing from their nesting 

 trees in an upland sink-hole to the meadows. 

 They make so pretty a picture that I forget the 

 background for a time, and am reminded of it 

 when a wary crow dashes impetuously by or 

 darts from sight through some slight opening 

 in the leafy wall, or a woodland bird seeks the 

 upper air and then sinks into the green depths 

 beneath it. As usual, when out of doors I am 

 indebted to some bird for what I most value of 

 out-door knowledge, and I remember that be- 

 fore me, though hidden as yet, is a winding 

 roadway, gloomy and long neglected, but a 

 roadway still, though those who habitually used 

 it have been dead for a century. While yet 

 afield, I always notice with more than idle curi- 

 osity any long forest wall. Somewhat strangely, 

 it does not give the impression of an obstruction 

 to progress in that direction, as does your neigh- 

 bor's fence with "keep off" dotted over it. 



