EFFECT OF SEASONS 
240 
earth, but winters in the clefts of the boughs far beyond 
the influence of this wash, it remains uninjured, to com- 
mence its ravages again when spring returns. 
Seasons arrive and pass aw 7 ay, the general features 
alone remaining impressed upon our minds ; but they 
often produce consequences not commonly expected, 
and a departed summer or winter has frequently been 
the cause of some event, which we consider as exclu- 
sively occasioned by atmospheric changes, or present 
temperature. A warm dry summer generally occasions 
a healthy spring blossom.the ensuing year, the bearing 
wood being vipened and matured to produce in its most 
perfect state. A wet, damp one usually effects the re- 
verse, by occasioning an abundant flow of sap, pro- 
ducing wood and foliage rather than blossom ; and the 
following spring, in such cases, from the floral vigor 
being diverted, has generally its blossom weak, and, 
though perhaps not defective, incompetent to mature 
the germen. This is mere reasoning upon general 
consequences ; but so imperfect are our theories, and so 
many circumstances counteract the calculations, the 
predictions of human wisdom, which can rarely even 
“ discern the face of the sky,” that results must more 
often be looked for than known. The recording of 
events is the province of the naturalist ; and perhaps 
occasionally by comparing existing circumstances with 
past events, something approximating to probability 
may be obtained. The two burning summers of 1825 
and 1826 are remembered by all; but it was in the 
succeeding year only, that the result of this heat and 
drought was manifested to us, by effects upon our pas- 
ture lands, which we did not expect. Not only in those 
on the limestone substratum, but in many that were 
sandy, and in the clayey which were chapped by the 
heat, the roots of the grasses, which we have generally 
considered as not being subject to such injuries, were 
destroyed in some cases, and greatly injured in others ; 
and in their places frequently sprang up crowfeet 
(ranunculus acris, and bulbosus), and dandelions, a 
mere useless vegetation, which, as long as the grasses 
flourished, were kept in subordination and obscurity by 
