^^e (mu0fetafe ate (^uifbin^ 



sparrow and junco, feed upon the weeds and grasses 

 that ripen unmolested along the roadsides and waste 

 places. A mixed flock of these small birds lived 

 several days last winter upon the seeds of the rag- 

 weed in my mowing. The weeds came up in the 

 early fall after the field was laid down to clover and 

 timothy. They threatened to choke out the grass. I 

 looked at them, rising shoulder-high and seedy over 

 the greening field, and thought with dismay of how 

 they would cover it by the next fall. After a time 

 the snow came, a foot and a half of it, till only the 

 tops of the seedy ragweeds showed above the level 

 white; then the juncos, goldfinches, and tree spar- 

 rows came, and there was a five-day shucking of 

 ragweed-seed in the mowing, and five days of life 

 and plenty. 



Then I looked and thought again — that, perhaps, 

 into the original divine scheme of things were put 

 even ragweeds. But then, perhaps, there was no 

 original divine scheme of things. I don't know. As 

 I watch the changing seasons, however, across the 

 changeless years, I seem to find a scheme, a plan, a 

 purpose, and there are weeds and winters in it, and 

 it seems divine. 



17 



