98 AUTUMN NOTES IN IOWA 



Here and there is a bit of riclily scarlet sumac. 

 Through one field of yellow-brown corn a highway 

 bridge gleams in conspicuous white. The cabbage 

 fields, though unpoetic perhaps, show rows of 

 vivid almost startling green, against a background 

 of predominant brown. The right-of-way, recently 

 burned off, runs for miles and miles on both sides 

 of the track in charred brown-black ribbons, em- 

 bossed with hummocks of soil and root clumps. 



In some of the wide cornfields are harvesting 

 teams, the horses nibbling the standing corn while 

 the farmer hurls the gathered ears with a dull thud 

 against the high -boarded side of the wagon; in 

 others the cattle are breakfasting, stretching out 

 their heads to reach an ear, and twisting their 

 necks to wrench it from the stalk. In the corn- 

 fields, too, are small flocks of meadowlarks, active 

 but songless. One catches an occasional gleam 

 from the white tail feathers of a bird just rising or 

 alighting. There are scattered pumpkins in the 

 fields and a great heap of them at the corner of 

 one field. Many gossamer threads float over the 

 barb wire fences ; a large hawk sails slowly above 

 the woods and a large, loose flock of crows is pass- 

 ing leisurely. ^^As the crow flies" indicates a 

 brief line of direction, but by no means a modern 

 rate of speed. Old birdsnests are now exposed in 

 hedge, bush, and tree. It has been dry, roads are 

 somewhat dusty, and one sees few recently 



