HAPPY HOURS OF SUMMER 



1077 



Queen of the Meadow crowned with 

 corymbs of perfumed cream. Silvcrweed, 

 shepherd's purse, rib-leaved plantain, and 

 dandelions star every inch of available 

 space along the dusty verge of the track. 

 AH is an undulating bank of verdure and 

 flowers. Peerless blue of speedwell and 

 the yellowed green of bedstraw comming- 

 Ung with the honey-scented crosswort ; 

 unbroken breadths of brilliant yellow 

 lotus ; touches of pink throughout — lychnis 

 pink, and the bluish pink of crane's-bill. 



The rose spray we plucked has its 

 coterie of green aphides gathered around 

 the stem, and beetles so tiny haunt its 

 opening buds ; on 

 one green leaf a 

 red spotted ladybird 

 creeps, from another 

 falls a caterpillar, 

 and the one with 

 the curled edge has 

 a restive grub with- 

 in. Every sprig of 

 hawthorn has its 

 golden weevils ; 

 and the forest of 

 grass blades is a 

 world of hidden 

 creatures. Every- 

 where increasing 

 crowds, but always 

 space; flowers 

 massed close to- 

 gether, more flowers 

 pushing through 

 their midst. Yet 

 all this crowded 

 luxuriance conveys 

 no feehng of restric- 

 tion and confine- 

 ment, but rather of 

 expansiveness and 

 hberty, and it is 

 impressive of an 

 inexhaustible rich- 

 ness. Viewing it 

 all, seeing the hght- 

 someness there, the 

 heart is filled with 

 a happy sense of the 

 fullness and freedom 

 of life — a healthy 

 optimism begotten 

 of the hedgerow in 

 the sunny hour. 



The open road has its charms, but the 

 less troddi'U bypath is a stronger attrac- 

 tion — dustless, sequestered, more varied, 

 more in the heart of things. By which- 

 ever way it takes y(ju, there you walk in 

 closer communion with Nature. Each 

 prickly bramble arch or wisp of wayward 

 grass ensnaring to the foot is a beautiful 

 conspiracy against haste. It is the touch 

 of Nature staying the step that you may 

 see her beauties, know her better, read 

 her wisdom, love her more. 



Soft and springy, full of the sap of life, 

 rushes surround the path through the 

 marsh, a wilderness of deep green, spotted 



rit.io^raph by T. 11. Y.:.i':.i"<. War.int:!^ 



"GRASSY AND SOFT, THFi: PATH WINDS THROUGH THE 

 GLADE AMID THE BRACKENS." 



