148 THE OPEN AIR. 



where the needles have fallen and strew the surface 

 thickly. Outside the wood, in the waggon-track, the 

 beech leaves lie on the side of the mound, dry and 

 shrivelled at the top, but stir them, and under the top 

 layer they still retain the clear brown of autumn. 



The ivy trailing on the bank is moist and freshly 

 green. There are two tints of moss ; one light, the 

 other deeper both very pleasant and restful to 

 the eye. These beds of moss are the greenest and 

 brightest of the winter's colours. Besides these 

 there are ale-hoof, or ground-ivy leaves (not the ivy 

 that climbs trees), violet leaves, celandine mars, 

 primrose mars, foxglove mars, teazle mars, and 

 barren strawberry leaves, all green in the midst of 

 winter. One tiny white flower of barren strawberry 

 has ventured to bloom. Kound a'bout the lower end 

 of each maple stick, just at the ground, is a green 

 wrap of moss. Though leafless above, it is green at 

 the foot. At the verge of the ploughed field below, 

 exposed as it is, chickweed, groundsel, and shepherd's- 

 purse are flowering. About a little thorn there hang 

 withered red berries of bryony, as if the bare thorn 

 bore fruit ; the bine of the climbing plant clings to 

 it still; there are traces of "old man's beard," the 

 white fluffy relics of clematis bloom, stained brown 

 by the weather ; green catkins droop thickly on the 

 hazel. Every step presents some item of interest, 

 and thus it is that it is never so much winter in the 

 country. Where fodder has been thrown down in a 

 pasture field for horses, a black congregation of rooks 

 has crowded together in a ring. A solitary pole for 

 trapping hawks stands on the sloping ground outside 



