FROM SPRING TO FALL. 



the water swirls under the shadowy arches — the 

 masses that have fallen have forced the current to 

 cut a way through — the reflected light from the 

 surface of the bright running water quivers and 

 creeps up the remains of the buttresses and broken 

 arches, sinks down at intervals, then runs up and 

 quivers, waves, and creeps on again as before. So 

 much does this old ruined bridge interest me, that 

 I sit down on the dead stem of a willow that has 

 been left high and dry by the last flood, and think 

 over what has been and what now is, and of the 

 great changes that may come in a possibly im- 

 mediate future. 



Cloud-shadows fall and glide away over the old 

 bridge and the surface of the water. It is very 

 quiet, — only the ripple and lap of the water to be 

 heard, with the faint rustle of the dead flags and 

 the whispering from the sallow willows which are 

 just budding out. 



We might think that it is almost lifeless here, 

 but it is not so : some small bird - forms show 

 in the sallows, moving about with mouse - like 

 actions; and then we hear the faint-hearted 

 (the first after migration) notes of the small 



