TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE — 225 
fects of all are produced by the small pale leaves of the 
willow, which form fluffy cloudlike masses of green reposing 
by the stream-side. There are other, stricter-growing 
species of willow, whose shining leaves sparkle brightly in the 
sunlight. Wind changes the color of certain foliage masses, 
such as those of the white oak tribe, by overturning the 
leaves and exposing to view their paler under surfaces. It 
takes a hard wind to overturn the leaves of the speckled 
alder, but when overturned, they entirely change the aspect 
of the alder thicket. 
Endless are the tints of green, also, in the trees of the land- 
scape, ranging from the light silvery green of the white 
willow to the heavy somber green of the white pine. Nature 
uses other colors sparingly, only here and there lighting up 
the edge with a show of flowers, as with masses of Judas- 
trees, or flowering dogwood, or hawthorn. 
Nature adorns every species of tree with its own graces of 
form and color. None is like any other. Each looks best 
where it grows best; for the handsome tree is, indeed, the 
tree that is well grown. 
When we walk beneath the trees of a forest cover, the 
beauty of their foliage is lost on us, we are such pygmies, 
walking beneath it: we must climb to some point of outlook 
to see it. But when the wood is cleft, as by a stream, the 
leafage comes down softly to the ground in all its beauty. 
Viewing a steeply-rising wooded slope from the vantage 
of the opposite bank, we may see how nature uses trees. 
She plants them in masses, using a few of the best kinds in 
vast numbers, and scattering the others thickly, but not too 
thickly, about the edges. Always there is enough variety 
to maintain our interest, and enough repetition of like 
combinations to avoid weariness. Always there are vines 
about the edges for drapery; and in the openings, shrubs 
and herbage mask all the angles and cluster about well- 
