THE BEECH WOODS 



burnished copper in the morning sun- 

 light. The witch-hazel had only fin- 

 ished its second flowering when it had 

 borne its dual blooms of yellow cat- 

 kins and red button-like flowers on its 

 spreading branches. Now its hardy 

 buds, already looking abnormally large, 

 were set and ready for the days when 

 elemental forces would strive mightily 

 above a dormant world of sleeping 

 plants. 



Thus Winter days passed by in chang- 

 ing moods of gray. Their variations 

 ran from enticing warmth, when drip- 

 ping trees and thawing snow made dark 

 winding streamlets seek their way by 

 lower levels, to the biting frosts of 

 clear starlight nights, when these same 

 streams were gradually sealed and sil- 

 enced and the Frost King came to the 

 Neighbour's house and painted fantas- 

 tic designs upon the window panes. 

 Through January cold and February 

 snow the wind came, and in its breath 

 the thickly smothering flakes that bur- 

 ied fences and creeks and obliterated 

 all lowly objects in the woods and 

 fields. Gray, mild days would come 

 90 



