The Pond-Meadow. 103 



and went through his gymnastics with the red clouds for a 

 background; and a harvest-fly would occasionally zie as 

 if half asleep, having lost all of the zest of the noontide 

 hours. A mink came one afternoon and sniffed about the 

 grass stems and bushes at the base of the tree, and once I 

 saw one cross the railroad track, and watched the serpentine 

 undulations of his long and lithe body, as he prowled about 

 the edge of a pool, spreading consternation among the 

 frogs. One almost despairs of any goodness in nature, 

 after looking a mink in the face. 



The slanting rays of the setting sun often shed a mild 

 peaceful glory about the perch and many of the patches of 

 humble flowers in the woods behind. The sun gilds a par- 

 ticular leaf or branch in the woods and we then, as it were, 

 see the sun's shine, whereas its light is generally so omni- 

 present, that we do not take special cognizance of it. 



As I watched from the perch, a haze often brooded 

 over the meadow and dimmed the view ; it nestled down 

 on the opposite woodland and made it soft and dreamy. 

 The country may have its roads and be mapped, but it isn't 

 thoroughly explored. There is no need of a far away 

 fairy-land, for the earth is unknown before us — the cow- 

 paths lead to mysterious fields. There is indeed a light of 

 fairy-land in the thick woods at sunset — a golden green — 

 and at mid-summer a myriad of minor songs, a constant 

 tingling, tingling. Though the names of the singers may 

 be mentioned, it does not spoil the enchantment or lessen 

 the charm. 



Withal the perch was a pleasant place, and often I felt 

 akin to a bird, as if, perhaps, I might presently fly over the 

 pond-meadow in company with a bittern. 



