176 A EAINY-DAY TEAMP. 



went out. How beautiful we found the woods ! 

 More than ever I despair of 



" Putting my woods in song." 



Every fresh condition of light brings out new 

 features. They are not the same in the morn- 

 ing and the afternoon; sunshine makes them 

 very different from a gray sky ; and heavy rain, 

 which hangs still in drops from every leaf and 

 twig, changes them still more. 



This time the tree-trunks were the most no- 

 ticeable feature. Thoreau speaks of rain wak- 

 ing the lichens into life, and we saw this as never 

 before. Not only does it bring out the colors 

 and give a brightness and richness they show at 

 no other time, but it raises the leaves if one 

 may so call them makes them stand out fresh. 

 The beeches were marvelous with many shades 

 of green, and of pink, from a delicate blush over 

 the whole tree, to bright vermilion in small 

 patches. The birches, "most shy and ladylike 

 of trees," were intensely yellow; some lovely 

 with dabs of green, while others looked like rug- 

 ged old heroes of many battles, with great patches 

 of black, and ragged ends of loosened bark frin- 

 ging them like an Indian's war dress, up to the 

 branches. Every hollow under the trees had 

 become a clear pond to reflect these beauties, 

 and lively little brooks rippled across the path, 



