THE BEAUTY OF A STORM. 



The person standing by the window 

 watching the progress of the storm may 

 see some of its beauty, but he will miss 

 the most vital part — its very spirit. 



Perhaps the majority of people look- 

 ing out of the window this morning ex- 

 claimed, ''What a disagreeable day!" 

 And so it might seem to those who re- 

 mained indoors ; and, alas ! also to many 

 pedestrians who are not attuned to Na- 

 ture and who have not yet seen the wis- 

 dom of providing themselves with suita- 

 ble attire for stormy weather, instead of 

 foolishly clinging to the old idea that 

 ''anything will do to wear on a rainy 

 day." 



These very likely were oblivious to the 

 beauty which surrounded them and failed 

 to be touched by the spirit of the storm. 



To many besides myself, however, I 

 hope it was a "beautiful morning." When 

 I started forth to walk the wind, which^ 

 was quite strong, was blowing in fitful 

 gusts, while the rain fell heavily, in spite 

 of which state of things the note of a 

 brown creeper smote my ear cheerily, as- 

 suring me that one little friend, at least, 

 was sharing my enjoyment. 



After about two hours, during which 

 time the rain had not ceased to fall, I 

 set out on my return walk. The first 

 sound to attract attention, on again set- 

 ting foot out doors, was the crackling of 

 the needles in a tall pine tree, and I was 

 surprised to note that the rain was freez- 



ing on the trees. It had not seemed cold 

 enough. Very soon there was sleet mixed 

 with the rain, which changed again pres- 

 ently to snow and sleet. Then the snow 

 and the wind commenced a mad frolic, 

 and Oh ! how beautiful they made the 

 world ! Who could be deaf to the deep- 

 toned music of the wind roaring through 

 the upper branches of the trees ! 



The spirit of the storm entered into my 

 veins and a wild delight seized me. I 

 could have shouted aloud with the mere 

 joy of living. The redbird's call note 

 was as the greeting of a friend, and the 

 hairy woodpecker's loud "pique" seemed 

 to say "Hi 1 down there ; this is a world 

 worth living in !" 



It is in such moments as these that our 

 unity with Nature is most strongly felt 

 and our co-partnership with the elements 

 realized. We are as much a part of the 

 great and wonderful universe as the 

 stars or the clouds, the mountains or 

 the sea. 



Thus may the storm spirit embrace our 

 spirit as the wind and rain and snow en- 

 circle our bodies. If the invisible and 

 visible parts of our being be both equally 

 prepared to face the elements, we shall 

 return from our encounter with them 

 exalted in mind and refreshed in body; 

 with new life in our veins, and in our 

 hearts new wonder at the beauty of Na- 

 ture in her wilder moods. 



Anne Wakely Jackson. 



The snow-plumed angel of the north 



Has dropped his icy spear; 

 Again the mossy earth looks forth. 



Again the streams gush clear. 



— John Greenleaf Whittier. 



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