152 OLD PLYMOUTH TRAILS 



sea. It has gleams of emerald and azure welling 

 from its hummocks under gray skies. The tat- 

 tered crimson of windy sunsets gets tangled in 

 its floes and flutters in ragged beauty, and it 

 treasures the sun's gold in the dusk of still even- 

 ings. Spring tints it with soft graygreens and 

 autumn seems to use it for a mixing pot for the 

 coloring of the October woods. All their flame 

 and gold are there, toned to soft warm browns 

 and tender olives just flecked with crimson and 

 with yellow flame. 



Looking westward from the island at high tide 

 this morning you could see already deep hints of 

 this coming autumn coloring, swelling out of the 

 deep green of grasses that make up the main car- 

 peting of the marsh, touches of brown and olive 

 that are singularly pleasing to the eye under the 

 summer blue of the sky and its fleecy flecking of 

 white clouds. Amid these, scattered here and 

 there, round eye-like pools reflect this summer 

 blue and fleecy whiteness and all along the 

 island's verge and that of other islands and the 

 borders of the Glades was the pink of wild roses 

 and morning glories, both of which seem to thrive 

 better and bloom later in the season here than 

 inland. But the softest and loveliest coloring 



