NATURE NEAR LONDON 



named here, first remembered, first mentioned, and 

 many forgotten. 



Highest and coarsest of texture, the red-tipped 

 sorrel a crumbling red so thick and plentiful 

 that at sunset the whole mead becomes reddened. 

 If these were in any way set in order or design, 

 howsoever entangled, the eye might, as it were, 

 get at them for reproduction. But just where 

 there should be flowers there are none, whilst in 

 odd places where there are none required there are 

 plenty. 



In hollows, out of sight till stumbled on, is a 

 mass of colour; on the higher foreground only a 

 dull brownish green. Walk all round the meadow, 

 and still no vantage point can be found where 

 the herbage groups itself, whence a scheme of 

 colour is perceivable. There is no " artistic " 

 arrangement anywhere. 



So, too, with the colours of the shades of 

 green something has already been said and here 

 are bright blues and bright greens, yellows and 

 pinks, positive discords and absolute antagonisms 

 of tint side by side, yet without jarring the eye. 

 Green all round, the trees and hedges ; blue over- 

 head, the sky ; purple and gold westward, where 

 the sun sinks. No part of this grass can be 

 represented by a blur or broad streak of colour, for 

 it is not made up of broad streaks. It is composed 



