Songs of the Fields 



to merit a volume by itself. The owl can enlarge 

 the retina, in order to see more clearly as he en- 

 ters darker places. The Almighty did few things 

 more wonderful than to evolve the eye of an owl. 



I love all the music of nature, but none is dearer 

 to the secret places of my heart than the Song of 

 the Road. The highways are wonderful. They 

 appear to flow between the fields, climbing hills The Song 

 without effort, sliding into valleys, and stretching °* ^^^ ^'^^'^ 

 across plains farther than the eye or lens can fol- 

 low. All of my roads ha^e three well-defined 

 M'heel tracks. There are two strongly marked that 

 every vehicle makes, and another only slightly out- 

 lined, made by those i)assing on the way. Tiny 

 flowers of j^ellow sorrel, rank fennel, grass, dande- 

 lion, smartweed, and catnip grow to the fence cor- 

 ners, and these are filled with tall meadow rue, 

 milkweed, poke berry, goldenrod, asters, thistle, 

 saff"ron, teazel, and sumac sprouts. There are wild 

 roses, alders, maple, oak, and elm shrubs, and the 

 straggling old snake-fences are bound together 

 and upheld by bittersweet, wild grape, honeysuckle, 

 and moonseed. 



I love the morning road, when the air is yet 

 tinged with the dampness and mystery of night. Chants 

 when the foliage is sharply outlined against the ^^^^^ 

 reddening sky, and every bird sings his chant as 

 if he just had mastered it for a sublime ofi^ertory 

 to a sun that never arose before. Hope is so high 

 '^ 273 



