Robin Hood's Barn 



scarcely time to notice it. But as I sit here, if it 

 is June, I become aware of a brightening to the 

 sharp sedges as they push through the matted 

 grovpth below me, or of a creamy mist upon the 

 elder bushes that ovei'hang the farther bank. It 

 is here as a rule that I see the first wild rose, 

 flaunting its gay pink along the water's edge ; or 

 in August, the transparencies of the sea-lavender 

 lifted just above the tide. Here, too, with a sink- 

 ing of the heart, I am first aware of the advance 

 of autumn, and reahze that already it has touched 

 the marsh with tawny gold. There ai-e other 

 changes that come more swiftly and are a mat- 

 ter of the hour. The trees lose their play of 

 light. The shadows creep farther and farther 

 down the hillside, sharply pointed where they 

 mark the outhne of the cedars, spreading f anwise 

 from the roots of buttonwood or oak. Gradually 

 the bay has lost its color and turned to purplish 

 blue; and behind it, the city is marked now by 

 the refulgence of its lights. With a sudden wink, 

 the road lamps flash on; the meadows melt to sil- 

 ver; and below me the little stream gathers dark- 

 ness until a place of mystery, of soft gurgles and 



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