144 MY LIFE AS A NATURALIST 



fruiting spurs. I looked with longing eyes at the prospect of 

 a plentiful supply of blossom buds. The next time I ventured 

 that way the sweetly-scented petals had all uncurled. 



Quite early in the year I stood 

 with kindred souls in a secluded 

 wood, and was brought into 

 touch with the matchless beauty 

 of the scene. Anemones and 

 Primroses vied with each other 

 in luxury of dress. The vivid 

 green of Dog's Mercury gave to 

 the woodland bed a magic touch, 

 and these kindred souls, toil- 

 ing all the week in workshop, 

 factory, and office, went on 



bended knees so as to be in as 

 PIG. 66. COMMON LIZARD. , . ., , 



close communion as possible 



with these, the Poet's darlings. It was an Oak wood studded 

 with Hazel bushes. The blue sky above, the songs of ascending 

 Larks in the adjacent meadows, the lilting strains of a great- 

 hearted Thrush, the whimpering of a tiny Shrew Mouse, and, 

 on an open patch of dry ground, the scuttling of a Lizard, all 

 added variety, which Whittier pronounced as charming. Even 

 as we grow older amidst such an environment we find : 



" Life's burdens fall, 

 Its discords cease, 

 I lapse into the glad release 

 Of Nature's own exceeding peace." 



It seems that, when participating in Nature, memories of happy 

 days spent in the depth of the country are as pleasant as actual 

 experiences. You cannot have one without the 'other, and it 

 is the combination of the two which brings its own reward. 

 There is always looking backward as well as forward. The 

 motto on my desk calendar to-day is after my own heart and 

 reads : " God helps us with our headpieces and our hands, as 

 well as with our souls." The author is George Eliot. 



This magic of the seasons cannot be easily defined. I have 

 tried many times to speak of and write about it, but have never 

 satisfactorily succeeded. Occasionally, inspiration comes, and 

 then one is able to build up the entrancing story fairly success- 

 fully, but, however futile one's efforts may be, there always 



