4 SIGNS AND SEASONS 



The birds that come about one's door in winter, 

 or that build in his trees in summer, what a pecul- 

 iar interest they have! What crop have I sowed 

 in Florida or in California, that I should go there 

 to reap? I should be only a visitor, or formal 

 caller upon nature, and the family would all wear 

 masks. No; the place to observe nature is where 

 you are; the walk to take to-day is the walk you 

 took yesterday. You will not find just the same 

 things: both the observed and the observer have 

 changed; the ship is on another tack in both cases. 



I shall probably never see another just such day 

 as yesterday was, because one can never exactly 

 repeat his observation, — cannot turn the leaf of the 

 book of life backward, — and because each day has 

 characteristics of its own. This was a typical 

 March day, clear, dry, hard, and windy, the river 

 rumpled and crumpled, the sky intense, distant 

 objects strangely near; a day full of strong light, 

 unusual; an extraordinary lightness and clearness 

 all around the horizon, as if there were a diurnal 

 aurora streaming up and burning through the sun- 

 light; smoke from the first spring fires rising up 

 in various directions; a day that winnowed the air, 

 and left no film in the sky. At night, how" the 

 big March bellows did work! Venus was like a 

 great lamp in the sky. The stars all seemed 

 brighter than usual, as if the wind blew them up 

 like burning coals. Venus actually seemed to flare 

 in the wind. 



Each day foretells the next, if one could read the 



