dies, or "as if oats 

 had been spilled, like 

 fibers of asbestos 

 rolled." Both forms, 

 he thinks, result 

 from vapor congeal- 

 ing as it finds its way 

 through interstices in 

 the ice, and both are 

 uniquely beautiful. 



THE ICE-STORM 



Rarest and most 

 beautiful of all, how- 

 ever, are the phe- 

 nomena attendant 

 upon an "ice-storm" — ■ 

 something which does 

 not occur every win- 

 ter. In fact, it was 

 only after several 

 years of patient wait- 

 ing that the writer 

 was able to secure 

 photographs illustrat- 

 ing this striking event. 



The necessary con- 

 ditions are : a gently 

 falling rain, a stratum 

 of air next the earth 

 with temperature be- 

 low the freezing point, 

 and this overlaid with 

 warmer strata from 

 which the rain pro- 

 ceeds. Thus the rain 

 freezes as fast as it 

 falls, and there is 

 gradually built up 

 around every object 

 a coating of ice. Then, 

 when the sun comes 

 world is turned into a 

 palace. 



"All objects, even the apple trees and 

 the rails, are to the eye polished silver. 

 It is a perfect land of fairy. 



"Seen at the right angle, each ice-en- 

 crusted stubble shines like a prism with 

 some color of the rainbow — intense blue, 

 or violet, and red. 



"What a crash of jewels, as you walk ! 



"The fine spray of a myriad of bushes 

 on the edge of the bank sparkles like 

 silver. 



"The drooping birches along the edges 

 of the woods are the most feathery, 



\l 



TRACKS OE A HARE 



"Did this great snow come to reveal the track merely of some 

 timorous hare, or of the Great Hare, whose track no hunter has 

 seen?" 



out, the whole 

 veritable crystal 



fairy-like ostrich plumes of the trees. 

 The pines are as white as a counterpane, 

 with raised embroidery and white tassels 

 and fringes. Each fascicle of leaves or 

 needles is held apart by an icy club sur- 

 mounted by a little snowy or icy ball. 

 Finer than the Saxon arch is this path 

 running under the pines, roofed, not with 

 crossing boughs, but drooping ice-cov- 

 ered twigs in irregular confusion. 



"God exhibits himself to the walker in 

 a frosted bush today, as much as in a 

 burning one to Moses of old." 



Thus, for page after page, Thoreau at- 

 tempts to convey some idea of the beauty 

 of this icy wonderland. But no words 



177 



