The Witchery of Winter 93 



white flag, hurry to the fireside? Such 

 winter days ought to bring out one's true 

 self, and just so far as the weather is hearty 

 be the same. Meet it half-way, and what 

 we should fear of it will never come to pass. 

 Winter finds us such easy prey that it reaches 

 the heart. Summer there, and you are well 

 armed. Neither the winter of each return- 

 ing year nor the stealthy winter of age can, 

 thus armed, ever claim you captive. But let 

 Nature preach; it is not man's forte. No 

 sermon fits the sunshine of a clear December 

 day other than one of its own reading ; and 

 the frozen meadow can speak direftly to 

 you, and will, if you are disposed to listen. 

 There will be no waste of words, no rhe- 

 torical flourishes, but a plain exposition of 

 what is transpiring, and why. It is not 

 always that we ask intelligent questions, and 

 Nature is quite certain to resent the inquisi- 

 tiveness of idle curiosity. The mystery of 

 Nature is only the lack of our ability to 

 comprehend her. Much of what is imputed 

 to Nature as a mysterious quality is really a 

 lack of brains on our own part. 



The frozen meadow was beautiful, but I 

 lingered in the woods. There is a feeling 



