WRIT IN WATER 



T TOW very kin is man to nature in his 

 ^ - habit of adapting to myriad forms and 

 ends every substance which takes the im- 

 press of his spirit, from the hardest granite 

 to the delicate spinnings of the silkworm. 

 Does not nature, the mother of fair en- 

 chantments, do the same thing with flower 

 and feather, earth and water, and every 

 other element with which she works? 



Behold her fair and naughty witcheries 

 with water, with whose mutability she sug- 

 gests a feminine counterpart to the more 

 seemingly solid and masculine earth, espe- 

 cially as it manifests itself in rugged moun- 

 tain peaks. Watch her exultant transfor- 

 mations with this most plastic medium, 

 which almost seems like matter on its way 

 to spirit the spirit which it attains when 



it is translated by the sun. She makes fogs, 



7 



