The Birds’ Calendar 
peculiarly the swnset season, with all the solemn 
glories of departing day, rich in its own wealth, 
but richer in its half-revealments of the future. 
It is in October that the parting rays of sun- 
light so grandly stream through the western 
sky’s cathedral windows of richly colored 
clouds, and an unwonted peace comes with the 
darkness. Spring seems the fittest season where- 
in to take up the burden of life, and the close 
of a bright and cool October day the most fe- 
licitous moment for the soul’s apotheosis. The 
months of autumn are too glorious for spring- 
time merriment, but whether they are mournful 
or not, depends on the reflected mood of one’s 
own heart. 
There is invigoration even in the memory of 
those scenes which are re-enacted at each return 
of harvest time :— 
The crisp, pure air, the clear and mellow light ; 
The deep, cool, shady nooks behind the woods ; 
The showy fringe upon the hem o’ the year 
Of purple asters and the golden-rods ; 
The spicy smell of apples and wild grapes 
Along the country-road ; the film of sound 
Rising from myriad insects in the fields ; 
The distant chorus of tumultuous crows ; 
The lowlands white with frost at early morn 
Among the yellow, brown, and crimson hills, 
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