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THE AUTUMN PANORAMA 
In a blaze of glory the growing season is passing 
away, and the returning tints of autumn make the 
suburban ravines as attractive as in spring* The moist 
warmth that settles down among the half-denuded 
trees seems filled with the spirit of completeness and 
satisfaction* The crisp rustle of fallen leaves under- 
foot becomes a whispered story of transition* There 
is a noisy felicity in pushing the feet through the 
gathered heaps under the Maples and scattering them 
about. It seems a protest against the ever-insistent 
spirit of sadness that comes with the passing of the 
year, and will not be thrown off* At every point the 
passing panorama presents a new scene* Against the 
rising hill is a dark Cedar, with Virginia Creepers 
twined around it, contrasting their vivid red with its 
deep green. Beyond is a bare stretch of hillside, 
with just a few trees at the top — sentinel Pines — 
and, towering gaunt and skeleton-like above them, 
the bare and blackened trunks of their long-dead 
progenitors. Below is the bright Sumach and the 
more sombre tints of denser shrubs and bushes. 
The Beeches are half-denuded, and the picturesque 
outlines of their smooth grey trunks and branches 
stand out distinctly in the new landscape* 
