126 TREES IN NATURE, MYTH & ART 



is there as well. Winter, indeed, has a pecu- 

 liar beauty of its own. 



Those who live in the country, and who 

 are not addicted to the various kinds of 

 slaughter that pass under the name of sport, 

 are often asked by their town- friends if they 

 do not find it dull in winter. The answer is, 

 of course, that the country is never dull to 

 the naturalist, the botanist, the gardener or the 

 lover of beauty. Each season has its interest 

 and its charm. My little girl, set at school to 

 write a composition on ** My Favourite Season," 

 came home and declared she could not do it ; 

 she had no favourite season ; she liked them 

 all in their various ways ; so with a preamble 

 to this effect, she wrote about autumn, the 

 current season, and said why she liked it; 

 and one reason for her liking were the clusters 

 of coral berries on the barberry; and I, too, 

 often go, when the sky is blue, and revel in 

 the rich harmony of red and blue, of berries 

 and sky, and the green and gold of evergreen 

 and withered oak-leaves — a harmony still played 

 at times when autumn is over and winter has 

 come. 



A week or two ago I saw a picture which 



