1 88 NATURE'S STORY OF THE YEAR 



And if the bare land and dead woods of winter 

 have this most subtle charm, how much more evi- 

 dent it is when the sun has reigned for long weeks 

 the beneficent lord of the sky, tyrant only to the 

 clouds ! Then from the westward escarpments 

 the breeze gathers the fragrance of the thyme 

 and other hill-plants. It sweeps through the little 

 valleys, and drinks up the breath of living vege- 

 tation and the humid reek of the deeper shades, 

 where last year's leaves lie rotting on the ground, 

 and tone, in their decay, the smell of the woods. 

 The scent of the larches is lifted from the dense 

 thickets, and blends with meadow air. Each herb 

 or tree lends something to the pleasant summer 

 breeze. 



The weakened senses of the civilised, however, 

 are probably only able to distinguish the strongest 

 of these odours, in which respect the lower animals 

 generally, and even some of the birds, are much 

 more capable than ourselves. The dog sitting 

 beside us on the hill and snuffing the wind can 

 learn in this way many facts unknown to us. Our 

 remote ancestors, perhaps, resting on some ele- 

 vation to watch their solar deity setting in the 



