JANUARY 



13 



But few birds about. Apparently their gran- 

 aries are locked up in ice, with which the grasses 

 and buds are coated. Even far in the horizon the 

 pine tops are turned to fir or spruce by the weight 

 of the ice bending them down, so that they look 

 like a spruce swamp. ... I see some oaks in the 

 distance, which, from their branches being curved 

 and arched downward and massed, are turned into 

 perfect elms, which suggests that this is the pecu- 

 liarity of the elm. Few if any other trees are 

 thus wisp-like, the branches gracefully drooping. 



THOREAU: Winter. 



14 



Several times I heard crows, flying through the 

 driving snow, calling to each other in its confusion. 

 In the pines at the summit of the first high hill 

 were two little brown creepers flying from trunk 

 to trunk and exploring busily the bark on the 

 sheltered side of the trees. When they left a tree 

 the storm whirled them away like dry leaves, but 

 they promptly headed toward the wind and sped 

 back under the lee of some sheltering tree to its 

 butt, the point where their explorations always 

 begin. They kept track of each other by frequent 

 attenuated squeaks. 



BOLLES: Land of the Lingering Snow. 



