210 
NATURE NOTES 
These Hampshire woods are full of the charms of Nature, and 
at no season do they lack their elements of beauty, whether it be 
the fresh green of the young leaves when the warmth of spring 
first stirs them into life, the lights and shadows of the foliage 
in the summer sun, the rich browns and yellows of the autumn, 
or the sparkle of the hoar-frost on the branches stripped by 
winter’s cold. The sense of beauty is stirred by every ramble 
in these woods : their beauty is one that the painter’s richest 
canvas only copies at a humble distance ; and bird and flower 
and insect combine to tell of the wonderful variety of Nature’s 
lessons to him who will learn from them all as they uplift their 
Benedicite. 
Through one of these woods there leads a path which may be 
safely trodden without risk of interference from gamekeeper or 
woodman, for it is a cherished right of way. Descending from 
the heath outside it leads across the wood, dipping down to 
cross a dell, and rising again to reach the opposite road. The 
wood is one which bears the characteristic features of all these 
Hampshire woods, and for the variety of the interests which it 
can excite it will scarcely be second to any other. 
Visit it in the spring. Across the heath the larches in their 
spring livery are at their very best, and the birches as they 
quiver in the breeze send flashes of green and silver to the eye : 
grace and beauty are nowhere more pronounced than in their 
quivering leaves and silver bark. Down amongst the still dark 
and dry heather the first blossoms of the little milkwort are 
visible, blue or white or pink. On the place where a furze fire 
has burnt there is a velvet carpet of brown moss — the first sign of 
life to spring from the black, charred soil. Inside the wood the 
Brimstone butterflies have emerged from their long winter sleep 
and are busy with their spring courtship, soon to be followed by 
the end of their little life. They lack the vivid hue that decked 
their wings last autumn, when they emerged fresh from the 
chrysalis and enjoyed the warm sunshine before settling down 
to the long period of hybernation. A warm and sunny February 
day has probably tempted some of them out long ago, but the 
frosts of March soon sent them to sleep again. It is one of 
Nature’s wonders that these butterflies, so different from the 
caterpillar from which they came, should know unerringly how 
to place their eggs upon the shrub where the newly-hatched 
caterpillar will find leaves ready to its taste, while the parent in 
its perfect winged state has tasted nothing more substantial 
than the honey from a sallow bloom or early spring flower. 
Up and down an oak tree flies a larger insect — a Large Tor- 
toiseshell. It, too, like the Brimstone, has spent the winter 
hybernating in its perfect state, and must be seen in late 
summer and autumn to be seen at its best. The oak itself is 
full of beauty : in the sunshine the leaves are a golden green, 
but not yet fully developed, so that the view into the tree is 
a clearer one than when summer has turned the full-grown 
