AN OUTDOOR LESSON 79 



through the blur of the storm. The street was 

 empty. 



I slipped into my coat and went out; not even a 

 policeman was in sight. Only the whirling sheets of 

 rain, only the wild sounds of the wind were with 

 me. The lights flared, but only to fill the streets 

 with fantastic shadows and to open up a yawning 

 cavern in every deep, dark doorway. 



Keeping in the lee of the shuttered buildings, I 

 made my way to the sparrow roost. I shall never 

 forget the sight ! Not a sparrow had left his perch, 

 but every bird had now turned, facing the wind 

 breasting the wind, I should say ; for every head 

 was under a wing, as near as I could make out, and 

 every breast was toward the storm. Here, on the 

 limbs, as close as beads on a string, they clu-ng and 

 rocked in the arms of the wind, every one with his 

 feathers tight to his body, his tail lying out flat on 

 the storm. 



Now there is the outdoor lesson I learned, and 

 that is how I learned it. And what was the lesson ? 

 Why, this: that you are not shut away from Nature 

 even in the heart of a great city ; that the out of 

 doors lies very close about you, as you hurry down 

 a crowded city street. 



