DECEMBER 

 THE HUNTER'S MOON 



TT is the Shortest Day. It is Sunday also. 



Even in the farthermost solitudes the day 

 announces itself by the strange harmony into 

 which the light blends all that is of earth with 

 all that is not. The whole world takes on a 

 softer aspect, as if it knew that some gracious 

 and beautiful gift were being given to all 

 created things. The sky takes on a more 

 benignant aspect than on other days, the wind 

 speaks with a gentler voice, and has a gentler 

 touch. Fields stretch away to far blue hills as 

 if a deeper peace lay upon them, and the trees 

 stand in more solemn patience, as they submit 

 to the Over Fate which has taken away their 

 leaves and bidden them make ready for storm- 

 time. 



On the grey boughs empty nests are swing- 

 ing. The last thistle-plume eddies through the 

 hollow at the will of a vagrant wind, in whose 

 s 273 



