168 NATURE IN DOWNLAND 



spirits. Month by month the colour has deepened 

 until it is almost sombre and resembles the everlastinsf 

 uniform green of a tropical forest. The tree-shaded 

 bushes and briars, the rank grasses, creepers, and weedy 

 flowering plants, wear to our anthropomorphic mind 

 and vision something of a weary look ; they have felt 

 the decay which is not yet apparent; the brightest 

 blossoms welcome us to their shady retreats with a 

 somewhat pathetic smile. Birds are more abundant 

 than in spring, but they are mostly silent and appear 

 anxious to escape notice, slipping secretly away and 

 speaking to one another in low voices that have an 

 unfamiliar sound. It may even seem that there is 

 something of mystery, or of apprehension, in their in- 

 frequent subdued notes, which they utter involun- 

 tarily when disturbed ; that they are prescient of 

 coming changes, and have even some dim knowledge 

 of that long journey from which so few will return to 

 theu' places in spring ; that they have already began 

 to listen for the breath of autumn, rustling the leaves 

 with a sharper sibilant sound than that of summer. 

 The quietude reminds us of the sick-room; the hot, 

 languid air is like a feverish breath that infects the 

 blood. It is a joy to escape from such confinement, 

 to go out into that lofty treeless world, into the glory 

 of the sun that burns and does not hurt. 



The power of the sun and its joy is not felt so early 

 on the downs as on the lower country, and last season 

 it was not until the middle of June that I experienced 



