THE PAGEANT OF THE SEASONS 93 



another day come to its close. And so the days 

 the shadows of the year creep on with their regular 

 and certain pace, and with them pass the seasons. 



August, the month of harvest, is with us ; the 

 evenings are now 

 the best of the 

 year, for at reaping- 

 time we see some 

 of the best sunsets 

 of the whole year. 

 I think the human 

 mind can be 

 brought into closest 

 touch with Nature's 

 God when looking 

 on a fine sunset. 

 There seems to be 

 a connecting - link 

 between us and^the 

 higher life when 



LARGE WHITE BUTTERFIA 



the sun goes down 



amongst the most beautiful or most sublime of 

 Nature's surroundings. There is such a calmness 

 in a harvest sunset, so unlike the wild grandeur 

 of a stormy winter sky at evening, when the torn, 

 straggling clouds seem, as it were, like smoke rising 

 from a heap of fire in the west, driven with such 

 rapidity towards the zenith. Why is it that a 



