28 THE TREE FOLK 



Start a friendship with one tree. Go to that old Oak 

 at least once each season — in spring, in summer, in 

 autumn, and in winter. Stand a respectful distance from 

 him, before sunrise, some morning in September, and 

 see him take shape out of the gloom, feature by feature, 

 until he smiles at you the best *'good morning!" you 

 ever heard. See him at noon under ''July's meridian 

 light." How he glitters! What a handsome braided rug 

 of violet and green and gold he throws beneath his feet! 

 See him in November at sunset, when he stretches out 

 his giant arms and waves the last remnants of his royal 

 crimson robes as a salute to his departing god. Visit him 

 once in a fog; once when it rains; once when he wears 

 ermine like a king; once when he is dressed in crystal 

 for the carnival of sunshine the morning after an ice 

 storm. Go look at him once when his green waves rise 

 and fall and roar and hiss under the lashings of a tempest. 

 See him without his robes some morning in February, 

 when you can admire his fine proportions, and the ath- 

 letic muscles of his limbs with their knotted joints, as 

 Enid once admired Geraint. Notice the texture of his 

 skin, and that now empty "nest of robins in his hair," 

 which Joyce Kilmer told about. See him some calm 

 morning in April when after his long sleep he stands 

 breathless before the sun god with his peace offering of 

 ten thousand times ten thousand jewels of topaz. See 



