Robin Hood's Barn 



Marathon, "and tell your mother that I'll teach 

 you how to paint," 



He was to disappear, however, far too soon for 

 that. And though I like sometimes to think he 

 might have worked his miracle, I know that I 

 am blinking facts. Still, a little he did teach me 

 of his close companioning with earth. That trees 

 were not to be interpreted alone by outline and 

 by color, but by an understanding of their 

 growth. There was the timidity of aspens that 

 put them in a flutter before they felt the breeze, 

 the light way of willows in the wind, the compas- 

 sionate nobility of elms. The oak drew stuff for 

 gallantry from its far-reaching roots. The pine 

 was always solitary with loneliness a-stirring in 

 its heart. And he made clear the ways of clouds. 

 The wanton ones that frisked across the sky to 

 little purpose and must be rendered with a gay- 

 ety just equal to their own. Those bolder ones 

 that went adventuring. And thunder clouds, 

 brigands that ran up their great black flags 

 against a western sky-line and bore down upon 

 a world they robbed of gold. Nor was the wind 

 always the same mad bullying fellow with his 



[46] 



