FEBRUARY 



II 



In the winter, warmth stands for all virtue, and 

 we resort in thought to a trickling rill, with its 

 bare stones shining in the sun, and to warm springs 

 in the woods, with as much eagerness as rabbits 

 and robins. . . . What fire could ever equal the sun- 

 shine of a winter's day, when the meadow mice 

 come out by the wall-sides, and the chickadee lisps 

 in the defiles of the wood? The warmth comes 

 directly from the sun, and is not radiated from the 

 earth, as in summer ; and when we feel his beams 

 on our backs as we are treading some snowy dell, 

 we are grateful as for a special kindness, and bless 

 the sun which has followed us into that by-place. 

 THOKEAU: A Winter Walk. 



12 

 DARWIN, 1809. 



Those little ruby-crowned lesser redpolls still 

 about. They suddenly flash away from this side 

 to that, in flocks, with a tumultuous note, half 

 gurgle, half rattle, like nuts shaken in a bag, or a 

 bushel of nutshells, soon returning to the tree they 

 had forsaken on some alarm. They are oftenest 

 seen on the white birch, apparently feeding on its 

 seeds, scattering the scales about. 



THOREAU: Autumn. 



