22 NATURE IN A CITY YARD 



the passage of a thunder-storm, I looked 

 southward, and there, through the haze, 

 appeared a long jag of lightning photo- 

 graphed on the sky. It did not flicker : it 

 simply stayed. It was much more startling 

 than a lively flash. And two or three sec- 

 onds elapsed before I made out that the 

 seam of pale light was merely the edge of 

 a cumulus cloud, high up, showing through 

 a rift in the reek, and lighted by a moon 

 invisible from the earth. 



And these things are seen as easily in 

 the town as in the country, and we make a 

 pretense of liking them as well through the 

 window as in the pasture. Perhaps the 

 restriction of our ground scenery forces at- 

 tention to the sky. I know that certain 

 sunsets and sunrises have been beautiful, 

 though roofs and spires have risen against 

 them. I know that the fan of sunbeams 

 piercing holes in a cloud blanket what 

 country people call " the sun drawing wa- 

 ter " is at least as striking from the yard 

 as it is when I see it from the favorite hill 

 in Vermont, though one cannot see the 

 lighted spots in the landscape where these 



