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diff --git a/18174.txt b/18174.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bccb9ff --- /dev/null +++ b/18174.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1871 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Some Winter Days in Iowa, by Frederick John Lazell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Some Winter Days in Iowa + +Author: Frederick John Lazell + +Release Date: April 14, 2006 [EBook #18174] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOME WINTER DAYS IN IOWA *** + + + + +Produced by Brian Sogard, Richard J. Shiffer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + + + + Some Winter Days in Iowa + + + BY + + Frederick John Lazell + + + + + CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA + THE TORCH PRESS + NINETEEN HUNDRED SEVEN + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1907 + BY + FRED J. LAZELL. + + + 1907 + + + + +FOREWORD + + +I am glad to have the privilege, thus in advance, of looking over Mr. +Lazell's delightful essays. He has surely a gift in this sort of +thing. We are grateful to the man who shows us what he sees in Nature, +but more to the man who like our present author shows us how easy and +blessed it is to see for ourselves. + +Mr. Lazell reminds me of Thoreau and Emerson, and I can suggest no +better foreword than the passage from the last named author, from the +_Method of Nature_, as follows: + +"Every earnest glance we give to the realities around us with intent +to learn, proceeds from a holy impulse and is really songs of praise. +What difference can it make whether it take the shape of exhortation, +or of passionate exclamation, or of scientific statement? These are +forms merely. Through them we express, at last, the fact that God has +done thus or thus." + + THOMAS H. MACBRIDE + +IOWA CITY, IOWA + OCTOBER 17, 1907 + + + + +I. THE WOODLANDS IN JANUARY + + +Humanity has always turned to nature for relief from toil and strife. +This was true of the old world; it is much more true of the new, +especially in recent years. There is a growing interest in wild things +and wild places. The benedicite of the Druid woods, always appreciated +by the few, like Lowell, is coming to be understood by the many. There +is an increasing desire to get away from the roar and rattle of the +streets, away from even the prim formality of suburban avenues and +artificial bits of landscape gardening into the panorama of woodland, +field, and stream. Men with means are disposing of their palatial +residences in the cities and moving to real homes in the country, +where they can see the sunrise and the death of day, hear the rhythm +of the rain and the murmur of the wind, and watch the unfolding of the +first flowers of spring. Cities are purchasing large parks where the +beauties of nature are merely accentuated, not marred. States and the +nation are setting aside big tracts of wilderness where rock and rill, +waterfall and canon, mountain and marsh, shell-strewn beach and +starry-blossomed brae, flowerful islets and wondrous wooded hills +welcome the populace, soothe tired nerves and mend the mind and the +morals. These are encouraging signs of the times. At last we are +beginning to understand, with Emerson, that he who knows what sweets +and virtues are in the ground, the waters, the plants, the heavens, +and how to come at these enchantments, is the rich and royal man. It +is as if some new prophet had arisen in the land, crying, "Ho, every +one that is worn and weary, come ye to the woodlands; and he that hath +no money let him feast upon those things which are really rich and +abiding." While we are making New Year resolves let us resolve to +spend less time with shams, more with realities; less with dogma, more +with sermons in stones; less with erotic novels and baneful journals, +more with the books in the running brooks; listening less readily to +gossip and malice, more willingly to the tongues in trees; spending +more pleasureful hours with the music of bird and breeze, rippling +rivers, and laughing leaves; less time with cues and cards and colored +comics, more with cloud and star, fish and field, and forest. "The +cares that infest the day" shall fall like the burden from Christian's +back as we watch the fleecy clouds or the silver stars mirrored in the +waveless waters. We shall call the constellations by their names and +become on speaking terms with the luring voices of the forest +fairyland. We shall "thrill with the resurrection called spring," and +steep our senses in the fragrance of its flowers; glory in the gushing +life of summer, sigh at the sweet sorrows of autumn, and wax virile in +winter's strength of storm and snow. + + * * * * * + +We shall begin our pilgrimages lacking in Nature's lore, many of us, +as were four men who recently walked down a city street and looked at +the trees which lined the way. One confessed ignorance as to their +identity; another thought he knew but couldn't remember; a third said +they looked like maples; and a fourth thought that silence, like +honesty, as the copybooks used to tell us, was the best policy. And +yet the name linden was writ large on those trees,--on the beautiful +gray bark, the alternate method of twig arrangement, the fat red +winter buds, which shone in the sunshine like rubies, and especially +on the little cymes of pendulous, pea-like fruit, each cyme attached +to its membranaceous bract or wing. Of course, if the pedestrians had +been in the midst of rich woods and there found a trunk of great girth +and rough bark, surrounded by several handsome young stems with +close-fitting coats, the group looking for all the world like a +comfortable old mother with a family of fresh-faced, willowy, +marriageable daughters, every member of the quartet would have +chorused, bass-wood. + +But no one need be ashamed to confess an ignorance of botany. +Botanical ignorance is more common than poverty. It has always been +prevalent. And the cause of it may be traced back to the author of all +our short-comings, old Adam. We read that every beast of the field and +every fowl of the air were brought to Adam to see what he would call +them; and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was the +name thereof. But why, oh why, didn't he name the trees? If he had +known enough of the science to partake of the fruit of the tree of +life he might have lived long enough to write a systematic botany, +satisfactory alike to the Harvard school of standpat systematists and +their manual-ripping rivals in nomenclature. But he didn't; and no one +else may ever hope to do it. + +Eve had never read a book on how to know the wild fruits, and her +first field work in botany had a disastrous termination; it +complicated the subject by the punishment of thorns and thistles. +Cain's conduct brought both botany and agriculture into disrepute. +Little more is heard until Pharaoh's daughter went botanizing and +found Moses in the bulrushes. Oshea and Jehoshua showed some +advancement by bringing back grapes and figs and pomegranates from the +brook Eschol as the proudest products of the promised land. But +Solomon was the only man in the olden times who ever knew botany +thoroughly. We are told that he was wiser than all men. "Prove it," +says some doubting reader, moving for a more specific statement. So +the biographer adds: "He spake of trees, from the cedar that is in +Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall." + +Four centuries later, Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego +anticipated Emerson's advice about eating bread and pulse at rich +men's tables. The historian tells us that they were men skilful in all +wisdom, cunning in knowledge, and understanding science. Possessing +such wisdom, Daniel knew it would be easy to mix up the wicked elders +who plotted against the virtue of the fair Susanna by asking them a +question of botany. One said he saw her under a mastick tree and the +other under a holm tree. This gave Shakespeare that fine line in _The +Merchant of Venice_, "A Daniel come to judgment; yea, a Daniel." But +in these latter days we rarely read the story of Susanna, and +Shakespeare's line is not understood by one play-goer in fifty. + +When the diminutive Zaccheus climbed into a shade tree which graced a +town lot in Jericho he gave the translators for "the Most High and +Mighty Prince James" another puzzle, for they put him on record as +going up into a sycamore tree. We had always supposed that this was +because the sycamore's habit of shedding its bark made smooth climbing +for Zaccheus. But scientific commentators tell us now that it was not +a sycamore tree, but a hybridized fig-mulberry! + + * * * * * + +But all this is digression. The best time to begin keeping that New +Year's nature resolution is now, when the oaks are seen in all their +rugged majesty, when the elms display their lofty, graceful, vase-like +forms, and when every other tree of the forest exhibits its peculiar +beauty of trunk, and branch, and twig. Often January is a most +propitious month for the tenderfoot nature-lover. Such was the year +which has just passed. During the first part of the month the weather +was almost springlike; so bright and balmy that a robin was seen in an +apple-tree, and the brilliant plumage of the cardinal was observed in +this latitude. Green leaves, such as wild geranium, strawberry and +speedwell, were to be found in abundance beneath their covering of +fallen forest leaves. Scouring rushes vied with evergreen ferns in +arresting the attention of the rambler. In one sheltered spot a clump +of catnip was found, fresh, green, and aromatic, as if it were July +instead of January. + +Sunday, the sixth, was a day of rare beauty and enticement. Well might +the recording angel forgive the nature lover who forgot the promises +made for him by his sponsors that he should "hear sermons," and who +fared forth into the woods instead, first reciting "The groves were +God's first temples," and then softly singing, "When God invites, how +blest the day!" + + * * * * * + +They err who think the winter woods void of life and color. Pause for +a moment on the broad open flood-plain of the river, the winter fields +and meadows stretching away in gentle slopes on either side. There are +but few trees, but they have had room for full development and are +noble specimens. All is gaiety. A blue-jay screams from a broad-topped +white ash which is so full of winged seeds that it looks like a mass +of foliage. The sable-robed king of the winter woods, the American +crow, in the full vigor of his three-score years, maybe, (he lives to +be a hundred) caws lustily from the bare white branches of a big +sycamore, that queer anomaly of the forest which disrobes itself for +the winter. The merry chickadees divide their time between the +rustling, ragged bark of the red birches and the withered heads of +heath-aster and blue vervain below. In the one they get the meat +portion of their midday meal, and in the other the cereal foods. No +wonder they are sleek and joyous. + +A few steps farther and we leave this broad alluvial bottom to enter +the canon through which the river, ages ago, began to cut its course. +These ridges of limestone, loess and drift rise a hundred feet or more +above the level of the plain from which the river suddenly turns +aside. They are thickly covered with timber. There is no angel with a +flaming sword to keep you from passing into this winter paradise! The +river bank is lined with pussy willows; they gleam in the sunshine +like copper. Farther back there are different varieties of dogwood, +some with delicate green twigs and some a cherry red. The wild rose +and the raspberry vines add their glossy purplish and cherry red stems +to the color combination, and a contrast is afforded by the silvery +gray bark of stray aspens. A still softer and more beautiful shade of +silver gray is seen in the big hornet's nest of last year which still +hangs suspended from a low sugar maple. On all of these the sunlight +plays and makes a wondrous color symphony. "Truly the light is sweet +and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun." To be +sure, this colorful arrangement of the stems and twigs is not +brilliant, like the flaming vermilion blossoms of the _Lobelia +cardinalis_ in August, the orange yellow of the rudbeckias in +September, or the wondrous blue of the fringed gentian in early +October. It is more like the delicate tints and shadings of an arts +and crafts exhibition, stained leather, hammered copper and brass, art +canvas, and ancient illuminated initials in monks' missals. The +tempered winter sunlight is further softened by the trees; as it +illuminates the soft red rags of the happy old birch it seems +sublimated, almost sanctified and spiritual, like that which filters +through rich windows in cathedrals, and makes a real halo around the +heads of sweet-faced saints. + + * * * * * + +There are strange sounds for January. All the winter birds are doing +their share in the chorus and orchestra; crows, jays, woodpeckers, +nut-hatches, juncos, tree-sparrows. But suddenly a woodpecker begins a +new sound,--his vernal drumming! Not the mere tap, tap, tap, in quest +of insects, but the love-call drumming of the nidification season, +nearly three months ahead of time. + +Swollen by recent rains, the river is two feet higher than usual. +There is a sheet of ice on either shore, but the water swiftly flows +down the narrow channel in the middle with a sound halfway between a +gurgle and a roar, mingled anon with the sound of grinding cakes of +ice. Suddenly away up at the bend of the river there is a sharp crack, +like the discharge of a volley of musketry. Swiftly it comes down the +ice, passes your feet with a distinct tremor, and your eyes follow the +sound down the river until the two walls of the canon meet in the +perspective. In a small way you know how it would feel to hear the +rumble of an approaching seismic shock. Only there was no terror in +this. It was the laughter of the sunbeam fairies as they loosened the +architecture of "the elfin builders of the frost." + +The recent rains have vivified the mosses clinging to the gray rocks +which jut out, halfway up the slope. Very tender and beautiful is +their vivid shade of green. Winter and summer, the mosses are always +with us. When the last late aster has faded, the last blue blossom of +the gentian changed to brown, the green mosses still remain. And the +more they are studied, the more fascinating they become. Take some +home and examine them with a hand lens, then with a microscope. You +will be charmed with the exquisite finish of their most minute parts. +Nature glories in the artistic excellence of infinitesimal +workmanship. The most beautiful part of her handiwork is that which is +seen through a microscope. There is beauty, beauty everywhere; the +crystals of the snow, the cell structure of the leaf, the scales of +the butterfly's wing, the pedicels, capsules and cilia of these +mosses. No wonder that many distinguished men have been led to give +their whole lives to the study of mosses and have felt well repaid. + + * * * * * + +Here are Nature's only two elementary forms of growth, the cell and +the crystal, wrestling for the mastery over each other in a life and +death struggle. The moss is built up of cell, the rock of crystal +forms. Below this Devonian limestone, its crystals sparkling in the +sunshine, with its coral fossils, its fragments of crinoids, and its +broken shells of brachiopods, down through the Devonian, the Silurian, +the Ordovician, and the Cambrian rocks, down to the original crust +formed when first the earth began to cool, if any there be remaining; +all these miles of rocks are inorganic, built up of crystals. But here +on the surface, the tender green mosses and the bright lichens have +begun the struggle of the cellular system for supremacy. These humble +little rock-breakers will not rest until they have pulverized the +rocks into soil sufficient to sustain higher forms of vegetable life. + +Once before, many millions of years ago, the cell life had won a +partial victory over the crystal. In the great sub-tropical sea which +once covered this spot, corals lived and flourished as they do now in +similar seas. Myriads of brachiopods lived, moved, and had their +being. Gigantic fish sported in the waters. Meanwhile older rocks were +being denuded and disintegrated. Millions of tons of sediment were +brought by the rivers and streams to the shores of the Devonian sea. +Upheaval, change, transformation followed, and the tide of battle +turned. Cell life was powerless before the vanquishing crystals of the +infiltrating calcite. Only the inorganic part of that vast world of +organic life here remains in these fossils to tell the story--the +walls of the corals, the shells of the brachiopods, the teeth of the +monster fishes. Then came succeeding ages, and finally the great +glaciers which brought down the drift, rounded the sharp ridges, +filled up the deep valleys and gorges, and gave to Iowa her fertile +and inexhaustible soil. The earth was prepared to receive her king. +The glaciers receded. Man came. + +Now here, on this bit of limestone rock, the struggle is on again. The +mosses and the lichens have proceeded far enough in their work of +disintegration to provide substance for the slender red stem of +dogwood, which is growing out of the soil they have made. The fallen +leaves of the surrounding trees follow the pioneer work of the mosses. +The rain and the cracking frosts are other agencies. By and by the +organic will triumph over the inorganic, the cell over the crystal, +the plant over the rock, and where now the fossils lie beautiful +flowers will bloom. + +The short winter day draws rapidly to a close and there is time for +only a brief survey of the beauty of the upland trees. The fairy-like +delicacy of the hop hornbeam, with its hop clusters and pointing +catkins; the slender gracefulness of the chestnut oak; the Etruscan +vase-like form of the white elm; the flaky bark and pungent, aromatic +twigs of the black cherry; the massive, noble, silver-gray trunk of +the white-oak; the lofty stateliness, filagree bark, and berry-like +fruit of the hackberry; the black twigs of the black oaks, ashes, +hickories and walnuts etched against the sky,--all these arrest your +attention and retard your steps until the sun is near the horizon and +you look over the tangled undergrowth of hazel, sumac, and briers, far +through the trunks of the trees to the western sky which is bathed in +flame color, as if from a forest fire. + +You are alone and yet not alone. A rabbit scurries across your +pathway. A faint little squeak voices the fright of a mouse. There is +a swoop of wings which you neither distinctly hear nor clearly see, +yet you are aware, in a less marked degree than was the mouse, that an +owl was near. You feel certain that the downy woodpecker is asleep in +that neat little round hole on the southwest side of a tree trunk, +just a little higher than you can reach. In the early afternoon you +saw a red squirrel go gaily up a tall red oak and climb into his nest +of leaves. You fancy he is snugly coiled there now. This recent hill +of fresh dirt--strange sight in January--was surely made by a mole, +and you know that they are all somewhere beneath your feet: moles, +pocket gophers, and the pretty striped gopher which used to sit up on +his hind legs, fold his front paws, and look at you in the summer +time, then give a low whistle and duck; meadow mice in their cozy +tunnels through which the water will be pouring when the spring +freshets come; the woodchuck in his long, long sleep, and the chipmunk +with his winter store of food. And so watching, listening, and musing +you come at length to the western edge of the woodland and look across +the prairie, far as the eye can reach, to where the red ball of the +sun hangs scarce a yard above the horizon. You look upon a scene which +is peculiar to this part of Iowa alone. It is not found in any other +state or nation on earth. "These are the gardens of the desert, for +which the speech of England has no name--the Prairies." + + _"Lo they stretch + In airy undulations, far away, + As if the ocean, in his gentlest swell + Stood still, with all his rounded billows fixed, + And motionless, forever."_ + +The "rounded billows fixed" are the paha ridges which the glaciers +made. They are not high enough to obstruct the view, nor to mar its +ocean-like effect. In the middle distance you may see a farm windmill +from sail to platform, but away across the snow-plain sea you catch +only the uppermost part of the white sails. The rest is concealed from +view by the illusory rise of the foreground toward the horizon--for +this twenty-mile stretch of prairie has an illusory curve similar to +that seen from all ocean shores. But now the sun has disappeared and +the windmills, houses, groves, and fences which looked like black +etchings against the flame-colored sky slowly vanish, first far away +toward the bluffs on the yon shore of the prairie sea, then nearer, +nearer, comes the gloom until the fence across the first field is +scarcely discernible. The bright vermilion fades at length to misty +gray and lights appear in the windows of the farm homes. + + * * * * * + +This sunset and twilight scene, peculiar to Iowa, is succeeded by the +pageant of the stars. These are not peculiar, in neighboring +latitudes, to any clime or time. They are the same stars which sang +together when the foundations of the earth were fastened; the same +calm stars upon which Adam gazed in remorse, the night he was driven +from the garden of Eden. The Chinese, the Chaldeans, the Egyptians, +the Hebrews, the Greeks, the Romans counted the hours of the night by +the revolutions of the Greater and the Lesser Bear around Polaris, and +guided their crafts and caravans by that sure star's light: + + _"And therefore bards of old, + Sages and hermits of the solemn wood, + Did in thy beams behold + That bright eternal beacon, by whose ray + The voyager of time should shape his needful way."_ + +These + + _"Constellations of the early night + That sparkled brighter as the twilight died + And made the darkness glorious"_ + +were mysteries to Ptolemy and to Plato, as well as to Job. All ages of +mankind must have watched and wondered, pondering over the unsolved +problems. When the First Great Cause projected all these whirling +fire-mists into illimitable space with all the laws of physics, +chemistry, evolution in perfect working order, did he choose this +earth as humanity's only home? Is this the only planet with a plan of +salvation? Is this mere speck among all the myriads of worlds in the +solar system, and the other systems, the only creation of His hand +which has known a Garden of Eden, a Bethlehem, and a Calvary? When the +sun has lost his heat and the cold crystals of the earth have fought +their last fight with cellular structures, and won; when all the fairy +forms of field and forest are only fossils in the grim, gray rocks; +when the music of bee and bird and breeze shall have waned into +everlasting silence; when "all the pomp of yesterday is one with +Nineveh and Tyre;" when man with all his achievements and triumphs, +his love and laughter, his songs and sighs, is forgotten even more +completely than his Paleolithic ancestors; then, shall some portion of +the nebula which now bejewels Andromeda's girdle become evolutionized +into a flora and a fauna, a civilization and a spirituality unto which +the visions of the wisest seers have never attained? Shall this +subtle, evanescent mystery which we call life, which glorifies so many +varied forms, be wholly lost, or shall it pass joyfully through the +ether to some brighter and better world? Is it true + + _"That nothing walks with aimless feet; + That no one life shall be destroyed, + Or cast as rubbish to the void, + When God hath made the pile complete?"_ + +We are scarce a step ahead of our forefathers. We do not know. + + _"Behold, we know not anything; + I can but trust that good shall fall + At last--far off--at last to all, + And every winter change to spring."_ + + + + +II. FEBRUARY IN STORM AND SHINE. + + +February often opens with a season of cold gray days when stratus +clouds, dark and unrelenting as iron, hang across the sky and bitter +winds from the northwest blow down the Iowa valleys and over the +frost-cracked ridges. In the city the wheels crunch on the scanty +snow, and every window is made opaque by the frost. Trains are many +hours late, and dense clouds of steam from locomotive funnels condense +into vivid whiteness in the wintry air. Nuthatches, woodpeckers, and +chickadees join the English sparrows in begging crumbs and scraps +around the kitchen door. In the timber the wind rustles shiveringly +through the leaves which still cling to some of the oaks. The music of +the woods is reduced to a minimum. Life is a serious business for +everyone who has to work in order that he may eat; there is little +time or spirit for song. In the late forenoon and again in the middle +of the afternoon the rattle of bills may be heard on the branches; at +other times the woods are almost silent, save for the cracking of the +earth as it heaves under the frost, and the boom of the ever +thickening ice on the river. + + * * * * * + +Then the south wind steals across King Winter's borderland, and the +iron clouds begin to relax. But at first there seems little +improvement. "The south end of a north wind," say the experienced, and +shiver. But wait. Every hour the wind grows warmer and the clouds +softer. They come closer to the earth, hanging like a thick curtain +across the sky. On the prairie the diameter of the circling horizon +seems scarcely three miles long. The clouds hug the far sides of the +nearest ridges and shut you in, above and around. It must have been +such a day as this when Fitzgerald made that line of the Rubaiyat +read: "And this inverted bowl they call the sky." Today the bowl seems +very small and dreary. + + * * * * * + +By and by a snowflake falls, then a few others, soft as the spray of +the thistle in the early days of October. Gently as the fairy balloons +of the dandelion they float through the air and rest upon the withered +leaves of the white oaks. Soon they come faster, and now the +forest-crowned ridge half a mile away which was in plain sight a +minute ago is screened from view by the fast falling white curtain. + +"He giveth snow like wool." Very beautiful is this snow as it softens +the rugged, corky limbs of the mossy cup oaks. It is not like the +hard, granular snow which stung your face like sand when you were out +in the storm a month ago, when the trumpets of the sky were doing a +fanfare, the wind raged from the northwest, the top of a tall black +cherry snapped like a shipmast and crashed through the forest rigging +to the white deck below, while the gnarled limbs of the big elms +looked like the muscles of giants wrestling with the storm king. This +storm to-day is not "announced by all the trumpets of the sky." It +comes softly as the breath of morning on a May meadow. It silences +every sound and curtains you into a rare studio where you may admire +its own exceeding beauty. There have not been so many beautiful snow +crystals in any storm of the winter. You may see half a dozen +different varieties on your coat sleeve with the naked eye, and you +pull out a strong lens the better to observe the exceeding beauty of +these six pointed stars. They are among Nature's most exquisite +forms, and they are shown in bewildering variety. The molecules of +snow arrange themselves in crystals of the hexagonal system, every +angle exactly sixty degrees. The white color of the snow is caused by +a combination of the prismatic colors of these snow crystals. Some of +them are regular hexagons, with six straight sides; others are like a +wheel with six spokes, with jewels clinging to each spoke. Many men +have spent a lifetime in the study of these fairy forms. W. A. +Bentley, of the United States weather bureau, after twenty years of +faithful work, has more than a thousand photographs of these crystals, +no two alike. Every storm yields him a new set of pictures. + + * * * * * + +For a little while the snow grows damp and the flakes grow larger, +making downy blankets for the babes in the woods--the hepaticas, the +mosses, the ferns. The catkins of the hazelbrush are edged with white. +The slender stems of the meadow-sweet begin to droop beneath the +weight of the snow. The delicate yellow pointed buds of the wild +gooseberry look like topaz gems in a setting of white pearl. The snow +falls faster and the wood becomes a ghost world. The dull red torches +of the smooth sumac are extinguished. The fine, delicate spray of the +hop hornbeam is a fairy net whose every mesh is fringed with +immaculate beauty. The little clusters of fine twigs here and there in +the hackberry grow into spheres of fleecy fruit. The snow sticks to +the tree trunks and makes a compass out of every one, a more accurate +compass than the big radical leaves of the rosin weed in the early +fall. + +As the day darkens the ghost-like effect of the storm in the woods is +all the more marked. The trees stand like silent specters, and at +every turn in the path you come upon strange shadow shapes of shrub +and bush. The snow is piling high under the hazelbrush and the sumac, +stumps of trees become soft white mounds, and the little brook has +curving banks of beauty. + +There is a thrill and an exaltation in such a storm. The depressing +influences of the earlier day are no more. As you resolutely walk +homeward through the storm and the deep snow, you feel the heart grow +strong as it pumps the blood to every fiber of your being. You know +why the men of the north, Iowa men, have virile brain and sovereign +will. The snow is deep and the way is long, but yet you smile--a +reverent smile--as you think of Hawthorne writing of a snow storm by +taking occasional peeps from the study windows of his old manse. + + * * * * * + +Next morning the world seems to have been re-created. It is as fresh +and pure and full of light and beauty as if it had just come from the +Creator's hand with not one single stain or shame or pain. It is one +of the few rare mornings that come in all seasons of the year when +Nature's every aspect is so beautiful that even the most +unappreciative are charmed into admiration; a great white sparkling +world below, and a limitless azure world above. The clouds have all +been blown away and you rejoice in the loftiness of the big blue dome. +It is so very high that there seems to be no dome. You are looking +straight through into the boundless blue of interstellar space, the +best object lesson of infinity which earth has to offer. The ocean +that washes the shores of continents has its bounds which it may not +pass, and mariners have well-known ways across it. The ocean of human +thought is vaster, but it, also, has finite bounds and man shall +hardly make great voyages upon it without crossing, perhaps following, +the track of some earlier Columbus. But this limitless ocean which we +call the sky has no finite bounds, no tracks, no charts, no Cabots. It +is measureless and all-embracing as Divine love. You and Polaris are +enwrapped by both. The farthest star is but a beacon light on some +shore island of this sublime sea of space; and it beckons upward and +outward to the unknown beyond. + + * * * * * + +Yesterday's three-mile diameter of the horizon has been multiplied by +ten. There is a far sweep of the landscape which makes the soul +thrill. This is the supreme pleasure of the prairies. The Iowa man who +goes to the Rockies is at first awed and charmed by the mountain +grandeur, but soon he pines like a caged bird. The high peaks shut him +in as a prison. He sighs for a sight of the plains, for the feeling of +room and liberty that belongs to the wider sky-reach. On the prairies +the love of truth and liberty grows as easily as the morning light. + +The sun rose clear and golden and now is almost white, so clear is the +atmosphere. The snow crystals break the white light into all the +prismatic colors,--rubies and garnets, emeralds and sapphires, topaz +and amethyst, all sparkle in the brilliant light. The shadow of the +solitary elm's trunk, here on the prairie, has very clear cut edges +and is tinted with blue. The finely reticulated shadows of the +graceful twigs are sharply shadowed on the snow beneath,--a winter +picture worthy of a master hand. + +In the enjoyment of such beauty as this is the only real wealth. Money +cannot buy it. Hirelings cannot take it from the lowly and give it to +the proud. No trust can corner it. No canvas can screen it from the +eye of him who has not silver to give the cathedral care-taker. +February, like June, may be had by the poorest comer. But it is like +Ruskin's Faubourg St. Germain. Before you may enjoy it you shall be +worthy of it. + + _"Such beauty, varying in the light, + Of living nature, cannot be portrayed + By words, nor by the pencil's silent skill; + But is the property of him alone + Who hath beheld it, noted it with care, + And in his mind recorded it with love."_ + +Leave the prairie and enter the forest which crowns the neighboring +ridge. Here are more of those blue shadows on the snow. The delicate +blue sky is faintly reflected on the snow in the full sunlight, but it +is more obvious in the shadow; in some places its hue is almost +indigo. This sky reflection is one of the most beautiful of Nature's +winter exhibitions. Towards sundown the snow-capped ridges will +sometimes be tinged with pink. And in a red sunset the winter trees +will sometimes throw shadows of green, the complementary color, on the +snow. + + * * * * * + +You are early in the woods. Nature's children are not yet astir. The +silence is profound; but it is a fruitful, uplifting silence. There +are no sounds to strike the most delicate strings in that wondrous +harp of your inner ear. But if your spiritual ear is attentive you +should catch those forest voices that fall softer than silence and +speak of peace and purity, truth and beauty. + +Soon the silence is broken. Curiously, the first sound you hear comes +from advanced civilization, the rumble of a train fifteen miles away. +On a still morning like this one can hardly stand five full minutes on +any spot in the whole state of Iowa without hearing the sound of a +train. There are no more trackless prairies, no more terrors of +blizzards. Pioneer days have passed away. The railroads have brought +security, comfort, prosperity, intelligence, and the best of the +world's work, physical and mental, fresh at the door every morning. + +Whirr! There goes a ruffed grouse from the snow, scarce a rod ahead. +In a moment, up goes another. Too bad to rout them from their bed +under the roots of a fallen tree. Farther on a rabbit scurries from +another log. There is his "form" fresh in the snow. + +The river, away down below, begins to boom and crack. The ice is like +the tight head of a big bass drum, but the drummer is inside and the +sound comes muffled. The frost is the peg which tightens all the +strings of earth and makes them vibrant. The tinkle of sleigh bells on +the wagon road fully a mile away comes with peculiar clearness. + +When the sun is more than half way from the horizon to the meridian, +Nature begins to wake up. A chickadee emerges from his hole in the +decaying trunk of a red oak and cheeps softly as he flies to the +branch of a slippery elm. His merry "chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee" brings +others of his race, and away they all go down to the red birches on +the river bottom. The metallic quanks of a pair of nuthatches call +attention to the upper branches of a big white oak. A chickadee and +one of the nuthatches see a tempting morsel at the same time. A +spiteful peck from nuthatch leaves him master of the morsel and the +field. But the chickadee does not care. He flies down and spies a +stalk of golden-rod above the snow on which there is a round object +looking like a small onion. Chickadee doesn't know that this is the +spherical gall of the _trypeta solidaginis_, but he does know that it +contains a fat white grub. He knows, too, that there is a beveled +passage leading to a cell in the center and that the outer end of this +passage is protected by a membrane window. After some balancing and +pirouetting he smashes the window with his bill, runs his long tongue +down the passageway, gulps the grub and away he flies to join his +comrades down in the birches, chirping gaily as he goes. + +Downy woodpecker "pleeks" his happiness as he excavates the twig of a +silver maple. Probably he has found the larvae which the wood wasp left +there in the fall. The big hairy woodpecker flies across the clearing +with a strident scream. Next to the crow and the jay he is the +noisiest fellow in the winter woods. He hammers away at a decaying +basswood and the chips which fall are an inch and a half long. His +hammering is almost as loud as the bark of a squirrel in the trees +across the river. The blood-red spot on the back of his head has an +exquisite glow in the sunshine, and you get a fine look at it, for he +is busily working little more than a rod from where you stand. He does +wonderful work with that strong bill. One decaying basswood found +recently was eighteen inches in diameter and the woodpeckers had +drilled big holes clear through it. The pile of their chips at the +base would have filled a bushel basket. + +By the time you have reached the spring the woods are full of life and +sound, and the spring itself adds to the winter music. The rocks where +it bubbles out are thickly covered with hoar frost. One of the big +blocks of limestone in its causeway is covered with ice, clear and +viscid as molten glass. The river is bridged over with ice twenty +inches thick, save only the little gulf stream into which the spring +pours its waters. From the surface of this stream thin smoky wreaths +of vapor rise and are changed into crystals by the frosty air. But the +waters of the spring gush forth as abundantly and musically now as +they did in the hot days of last July, and the clam-shell with which +you then drank is still in its place by the rock. The pure, melodious, +beautiful spring makes its own environment, regardless of +surroundings. Its sources are in the unfailing hills. It suggests the +lives of some men and women whose friendship you enjoy, and who are +ever ready to refresh you on life's way. + + * * * * * + +The wind of last night has carried much of the snow over the top of +the ridge and deposited it in this sheltered slope of the river canon. +Here are wind-formed caves of sculptured snow, vaulted with a tender +blue. Turrets and towers sparkle in the splendid light. All angles are +softened, and everywhere the lines of the snow curves are smooth and +flowing. The drift sweeps down from the footpath way on the river bank +to the ice-bound bed of the river in graceful lines. Where the side of +the canon is more precipitous there is equal beauty. Each shrub has +its own peculiar type amidst the broken drift. The red cedar, which is +Iowa's nearest approach to a pine, except in a few favored counties, +hangs from the top of the crag heavily festooned with feathery snow. +Those long creeping lines on which the crystals sparkle are only +brambles, and that big rosette of rusty red and fluffy white is the +New Jersey tea. Those spreading, pointed fingers of coral with a +background of dazzling white are the topmost twigs of the red osier +dogwood. The strip of shrubs with graceful spray, now bowed in beauty +by the river's brink, is a group of young red birches, and this bunch +of downy brown twigs, two feet above the snow, sparkling with frost +particles, is the downy viburnum. The great tangle of vine and lace +work mixed with snow is young hop hornbeam, supporting honeysuckle. + + * * * * * + +Viewed from the window of a railway train, the February fields and +woods seem dead and dreary. Nothing could be farther from the truth. +Every twig is lined with living buds, carefully covered with scales. +Inside those scales are leaves and blossoms deftly packed, as only +Mother Nature could pack them. Split one down the middle and examine +it with your lens. You will see the little tender leaves, and often +the blossoms, ready to break out in beauty when the warm days come +and flood the world with color. Men try to photograph nature, but no +photograph could do justice to the clustered buds of the red maple or +the downy buds of the slippery elm. The long green gray buds of the +butternut, pistillate flowers in some, staminate flowers in others; +the saffron buds of the butternut hickory; the ruby buds of the bass +wood; the varnished bud scales of the sycamore and the poplar; the big +gummy scales which protect the pussy catkins of the aspen; the queer +little buds of the sumac and the rusty buds of the ash; every one of +these refutes the aspersions cast upon the winter woods by those who +never go out to see. In their noble beauty of massive and graceful +form, with their exquisite symmetry of outline, their varied +arrangement of branches and twigs, giving to every species an +individual expression, every twig studded with these gem-like buds, +how very beautiful are the winter trees! One might almost find it in +his heart to feel sorry that this rare mingling of sculpture and +fretwork and lace is soon to be draped with a mantle of green. + + * * * * * + +Why did Bryant dwell so often on the theme of death in Nature? The +reminders of death are very few compared with the signs of life. +Break off a twig from the aspen and taste the bark. The strong quinine +flavor is like a spring tonic. Cut a branch of the black cherry, peel +back the bark, and smell the pungent, bitter almond aroma, which of +itself is enough to identify this tree. Every sense tells of life; the +smell of the cherry, the taste of the aspen, the touch of the velvety +mosses and the gummy buds on the poplars, the color of the twigs and +buds, the music of the birds, all these say, "There is no death." + +Every time you plant your feet upon the snow you press down thousands +of seeds, minute forms of life, each with its little store of starch +or albumen, carefully compounded in Nature's laboratory, sufficient to +sustain the embryonic life until the tiny plantlet learns to draw +nourishment from the breast of Mother Earth and to breathe health and +vigor from the sunshine and the air. By the wayside, in stony places, +among thorns and on good ground, Nature sows her seeds with lavish +hand. Every tree and shrub and herb, itself held fast to one place, +tries to give its offspring as great a start in the world as possible. +Even in late February one may see some of Nature's airships, designed +to carry seeds. They are all built on the same principle, not to rise +in the air, but to fly as far away from the tree as possible when +falling from the branch. The basswood puts its seeds into little +hollow wooden balls, then makes a sail out of a leaf and sets it at +just the right angle to balance the seeds and catch the breeze. The +winged samaras of the ash and the box elder are other modifications of +the same principle. The round balls of the sycamore hang till the high +winds of March loosen their strong stalks and then they break open and +the club-shaped nutlets inside spread their bristly hairs to the +breeze. The hop-like strobiles of the hop hornbeam seem especially +made to blow over the surface of the frozen snow; they drop off the +queer little oblong bags as they go and thus the smooth small nuts +inside are planted. The oaks, hickories, walnuts, butternuts, +hazelnuts, trust their fruits to the feet of passersby and to the +squirrels and blue jays which fail to find many of their buried acorns +and nuts. The big three-valved balloons of the bladdernut can sail +either in the air, on the water, or over the frozen snow. The pretty +clusters of the wild yam, seen climbing over the hazelbrush in the +rich winter woods, have two ways of navigating in the wind; either +the three-sided, papery capsule floats as a whole, or it splits +through the winged angles and then the flat seeds with their +membranaceous wings have a chance to flutter a foot or two away where +haply they may find a square inch of unoccupied soil. The desmodium, +the bidens, the agrimony and the cocklebur, which stick to your +clothes even as late as February, are only using you as a Moses to +lead their children to their promised land. These herb stalks above +the snow, the corymbose heads of the yarrow, the spikes of the +self-heal, the crosiers of the golden-rod, the panicles of the asters, +the racemes of the Indian tobacco, the knotted threads of the blue +vervain and the plantain, the miniature mandarin temples of the +peppergrass--all these have shed, or are shedding, myriads of seeds to +be silently sepulchred under the snow until earth's easter April +mornings. The withered berries of the bittersweet, the cat-brier, and +the sumac, like the drupes of the early fall, are scattered far and +wide by the birds. All these speak not of death, but of an eager, +expectant life. + + * * * * * + +The snow is winter's great gift to states like Iowa. He is unwise who +complains of the tender, protecting, nourishing, fructifying mantle +of immaculate white. Where the snow lies deepest in winter, there +shall you find the greatest flush of new life in the spring. Down +under the snow Nature's chemical laboratory is at work. Take a stick +and dig under the thick white blanket into the black soil. Here are +bulbs and buds, corms and tubers, rootstalks and rhizomes, which were +pumped full of starch and albumen in the hot days of last August. So +far as modern science is able to tell, chemical changes are in +constant progress in all these forms of underground life, preparing +for the coming glory of the living green. Nature never dies. She +scarcely sleeps. + +Tracks on the all-revealing snow tell of an equal abundance of animal +life. These rabbit tracks, scarcely two feet apart, tell how happily +bunny was going. But farther on a dog came across at an angle and gave +chase. The tracks are now farther apart, three feet, four feet, as up +bunny goes to his burrow under the shelving rock. One last bound, +nearly five feet, and he was safe. That was once when "heaven was +gained at a single bound." + +Bunny was too far away from home that time. Here is his usual runway +from the burrow to the brook, and the nibbled barks of the saplings +tell of a tender breakfast before he went prospecting. Rabbits usually +run in beaten paths. + +These narrow tracks where dainty feet printed a double line of +opposite dots across the snow were made by the whitefooted mouse, and +the little continuous line between them was made by his dragging tail. +The legend is like this, :-:-:-:-:-. Farther on are similar tracks, +but alternate instead of opposite, like this,',',','. They were made +by the short-tailed shrew. Still farther along a queer little ridge is +seen in the snow across the wood road. It is the tunnel of the meadow +mouse. Part of its fragile roof has fallen in and you may stoop and +look into the little round tunnel which ran from the burrow to some +granary under a log. + +There goes a squirrel, angling away from you, his red bushy tail high +in the air as he runs through the deep snow down the side of the ridge +to a big, corky-barked oak, up which he goes to wait in his hollow up +there until you have passed by. He did not seem to be going very fast +but when you walk over to his tracks you find they are farther apart +than you can step. The groups of four are about as broad as your +hand, and they are deep where the snow lies thick. But on the firmer +snow at the crest of the ridge, before the squirrel became alarmed, +they did not break through the crust, and the marks of the dainty toes +are plainly seen. There are also the remains of a sweet acorn which +the squirrel dug out of the deep snow under a white oak. Back to the +river where the stream from the spring makes open water you find some +queer tracks on the fresh snow; there is a round spot as big as a +quarter in each one, faint radiating lines in front ending with the +marks of sharp toes; these were made by the soft-padded foot and +webbed toes of the mink. + + * * * * * + +Most of the insect life is snugly hidden, but much is in plain sight. +A clump of pussy willows bears many queer-shaped clusters which the +entomologist calls pine cone galls; in the center of each one a larva +dwells in his silken case. On the red oaks over head are other +galls,--the oak apples. The buttonbush has the ash-colored cocoon of +the giant silkworm, made out of a rolled leaf, the petiole of which is +fastened to the branch with silk. Many others are to be found for the +looking. All tell the story of Nature's abundant life,--even the +morning after a February snow storm. All speak + + _"Of one maternal spirit bringing forth + And cherishing with ever constant love, + That tires not, nor betrays."_ + +But snowstorms will soon be over. The nature-lover's spring begins +near the end of the month, sometimes just before, sometimes just +after. The snow and the ice will be honeycombed by the sun and we +shall begin to look for the sap trickling from the maple, and to +strain our ears for the first note of the wild goose and the +blue-bird, + + _"While winter, slumbering in the open air + Wears on his smiling face a dream of spring."_ + +The frequent rambler through the winter woods can scarcely fail to +become acquainted with all the winter birds. The different species are +not numerous, few of them are very shy, they are easily seen because +of the bare trees, and their habits tend to call attention to them; +especially is this true of the woodpeckers. It is true, of course, +that one may sometimes walk in the woods for hours, scarcely seeing a +single bird. But it is also true that if he starts out some sunny +morning, and seeks a tract of heavy timber near a river, he will be +very likely to see and hear nearly all of them. + +Such a ramble was enjoyed during the halcyon days we had this year +(1907) in February. By 10 o'clock the woods were fairly ringing with +bird-calls. Over a meadow, near the entrance to the woods, a +red-tailed hawk was circling about twenty-five feet from the ground, +as if in search of meadow mice. The field glass showed the black band +on his breast and tail, which, with his bright red tail, sufficiently +established his identity. + +The first bird seen in the woods was a white-breasted nuthatch, +working on the trunk of a red birch on the river bottom. Next to the +chickadee, he is the tamest bird of the woodlands. One may easily get +within six feet of him, as was done on this occasion, and admire his +beautiful ashy-blue coat, his white vest and white cheeks, with his +black cap and nape. He pulled a fat white grub from the birch with his +long, slender bill and ate it with evident relish. Then he uttered +his soft "quank, quank" and gently flew to another tree. + +Sometimes these "quank, quanks" come in a loud and rapid series and +may easily be heard a quarter of a mile on a still day. + +A flock of juncos were busy among the dead leaves and the snow. They +are sparrow-size, like the nuthatch, and their faint chirpings are +much like those of the chickadee. The slate gray of their head, +throat, back and breast is an interesting color, and is relieved from +somberness by the white under parts and the yellow bills. The white +outer tailfeathers show plainly as they fly. They frequent the road +through the timber and have some of the habits of the English sparrow. +The winter woods would miss them. + +Chickadees were busy in the birches. Surely the chickadee is one of +the dearest little fellows that fly. He has four modes of expression: + +1. The well-known "Chick-a-dee-dee-dee." + +2. The "pe-ho," which ought to be written "la sol," pitched at about +upper D and C, above the soprano staff, and timed like two quarter +notes. + +3. The faint chirpings as he works. + +4. A happy little gurgling song, which can hardly be translated into +words. + +The chickadee wears a black cap with a white vest and a blue-gray +coat, completing his costume with a black necktie, and he is perfectly +willing to sit for you and have his picture taken. + +Mr. Blue Jay sat in a clump of dogwood, doing nothing. He was not so +tame as the others and yet he permitted a twenty-foot view of his +blue-gray coat, his aristocratic crest, his dusky white vest, his +white-tipped tail and the black band across the back of his head, down +the neck and across the breast--like a black collar worn very low +down. It was a spring-like morning, the thermometer rapidly rising +toward forty-five, and Mr. Blue Jay was in one of his imitative moods. +There is hardly a limit to his vocabulary, and it would not be +surprising if some of his imitative stunts should be mistaken for the +call of an early robin. Among these calls is a liquid gurgle, like +hard cider coming out of the neck of a big brown jug. Another, and a +common one, is two slurred eighth notes, repeated, "sol te, sol +te"--upper G and B in the key of C. + +Meanwhile the woods had been resounding with the lively tattoo of the +woodpecker, and finally Downy was found at the top of a dead dry elm, +busily doing this reveille, fast and loud as the roll of a snare drum. +His head was going so fast that it looked like a quick series of heads +and the tree rattled so it could be heard afar. Most writers regard +this as the woodpecker's love call, a sign of spring, as it were--but +Downy is usually heard and seen doing it on warm days every month in +the winter. The females are seen at it almost as often as the males; +the latter are known by the scarlet band at the back of the head. +Perhaps it is not a love call after all; it may be only the exuberance +of spirits caused by a fine breakfast and a warm morning. + +Downy kept it up, heedless of the human observer. But when a red +squirrel ran up the tree to within four feet of the spot chosen for a +sounding board, Downy suddenly left. The squirrel sat in the sunshine +and smoothed his fur with his nose and his paws, like a cat. + +Two big hairy woodpeckers were on a neighboring tree, but they were +not so fearless. One can hardly get nearer than thirty feet. The field +glass is a great help in such cases, and no one should go to the woods +without one, or at least a good opera glass. These two were both +males. That could be easily told by the bright scarlet band on the +back of their heads. The rest of the plumage is much like the downy +woodpecker. Both have beautiful black wings, spotted and striped with +white and a broad white stripe down the back. Downy's white outer +tail-feathers are barred with black; the Hairy's are all white. Downy +is sparrow-size; Hairy is robin-size. Downy is usually a gentle +creature; Hairy is aggressive and militant. Downy is a little Lord +Fauntleroy; Hairy is a Robin Hood. + +One other woodpecker was seen on this lucky bird-day. It was the +red-bellied woodpecker, more rare and more shy than either of the +others. His breast is a grayish white tinged with red, and his back is +barred white and black like a ladder; but the black is not so deep and +vivid as that of the other woodpeckers. He has no white stripe down +the middle of his back. His nape and crest are both scarlet and he +utters a hoarser squeak than either the downy or the hairy. + +One of the events of the day was the sight of the winter wren, the +first time he had been seen this winter. He was working among the +stumps of trees at the brink of the river, under the ice which had +been left clinging to the trees when the high water receded. There was +no mistaking his beautiful coat of cinnamon brown, his pert manner, +his tail which was a little more than straight up, pointing towards +his head; a little mite of a bird, how does he keep his little body +from freezing in the furious winter storms? He seemed perfectly happy, +with his two sharp, shrill, impatient "quip quaps," much shriller than +the "pleeks" of downy woodpecker. + +A flock of tree sparrows were busy in and around a big thicket of wild +gooseberry bushes on the upland. You may easily get within a rod of +them, but hardly closer, and a field glass is almost a necessity to +careful study. He is a grayish, graceful sparrow, with streaks of +reddish brown, chestnut caps, and a small black spot in the middle of +the brownish breast. One white wing bar is a distinguishing +characteristic, and a better one is the difference in color of the two +mandibles; the upper one is black and the lower one yellow. The +tinkling notes of the tree sparrows sound like the music a pipe +organist makes when he uses the sweet organ and the flute stop. + +A sharp watch was kept for goldfinches and the evening grosbeak +during the day, but neither was seen. This was something of a +disappointment. But it was forgotten in the thrill of joy that came +late in the afternoon. There was a wide stretch of river bottom, +walled in on the west by a high and forest-crowned ridge; on the east +was the river, with a hundred foot fringe of noble trees, not yet +sacrificed to the axe of the woodsman. The sun was just above the tops +of the trees on the western ridge and long rays of slanting light came +pink across the river flood-plain, investing the tree-tops by the +shore with a soft and radiant light. Suddenly there came a plaintive +little note from the bottom of a near-by tree, instantly recognized as +a new note in the winter woods. Then another, and another, leading the +eyes to the foot of a big bass-wood, where a graceful bird, with a +beautiful blue back and a reddish brown breast, as if his coat had +been made of the bright blue sky and his vest of the shining red sand, +was hopping. The field glass brought him within ten feet. A bluebird, +sure enough! The first real, tangible sign of the spring that is to +be, the first voice from the southland telling us that spring is +coming up the valleys. There is no mistaking the brilliant blue, the +most beautiful blue in the Iowa year, unless it be the blue of the +fringed gentian in the fall; and the soft reddish, earthy breast +enhances the beauty of the brilliant back. + +Another hopped into view; the female, doubtless, for both the blue and +the reddish brown were less brilliant. Every well-regulated bluebird +ought to be seen in the top of a tall elm or maple; but these seemed +to have no high-flying inclinations. Maybe they could read in the +clouds beneath the setting sun a prediction of the snow which came +that night. They stayed a few moments and then slowly hopped away and +were lost among the tree trunks. A further search only frightened a +prairie chicken from beneath a hawthorne bush, where he had meant to +pass the night; and the bluebirds were not seen again. But the sight +of bluebirds in Iowa on the nineteenth day of February is glory enough +for one day. + + + + +III. MARCH--AND A SPRING BOUQUET + + +Every pilgrim to the mystic land of spring knows hallowed places in +sunny valleys where the tender goddess first reveals herself at +Nature's living altars. Yet he can scarcely tell at which shrine she +will first appear. She delights in surprising her votaries. Thoreau +was right in saying that no man was ever alert enough to behold the +first manifestation of spring. Sometimes as we walk toward the mossy +bank in the glen where the fresh green leaves of the haircap mosses +were last year's first signs of vernal verdure, the bluebird calls to +us from the torch-like top of the smooth sumac and shyly tells us +that, if we please, spring is here. Sometimes we thrill with the +"honk, honk" of the Canada goose and think the A-shaped band of +migrants is surely this year's messenger, crying in the wilderness to +prepare the way of the goddess and make her paths straight; but a +little later we pass through a shadowy ravine where the white oaks +have held their leaves all winter, and find that the great horned owl +has already appropriated a last year's hawk's nest and deposited +therein her two white eggs. At the foot of the sunny hill where the +spring has freely flowed all winter long, we tramp around the swamp in +the vain hope of finding the purplish monk's-hood of the skunk's +cabbage; but look up to see, instead, the many "mouse ears," shining +like bits of silvery fur, along the slender stems of the pussy willow. +Or we tramp through a hazel thicket, where the squirrels have been +festive among the nuts all winter, in the hope of finding, among the +myriads of short, stiff catkins, one which has lengthened and softened +until it is ready to pour its golden pollen into our palms. We find +neither this nor the crimson stars of the fertile flowers, but the +chirp of a white-throated sparrow directs our eyes to a young aspen +tree from whose every flower-bud spring is peeping. + +Nature's first flowers are those of the amentaceous trees, and the +earliest of these are the pussy willow, the quaking asp, and the +hazel. All of them are quick to respond to the kindly influences of a +vase of water and a sunny window and we may have all three of these +first blossoms in a spring bouquet at home by the first of March. +Towards the last of February the catkins of the pussy willows and the +aspens are creeping from beneath their budscales to meet the goddess +of spring half way, and every warm day in March coaxes them a little +farther. Meanwhile the staminate catkins of the hazel are lengthening +and the pistillate buds are swelling, as the sun presses farther +northward at the dawn and the dusk of each day, pushing back the gray +walls of the canon of night, that the river of day may flow full and +free. + + * * * * * + +This year some of the aspens heralded the spring. They grew at the +head of a little creek which traversed a long, sunny, sheltered swamp. +Their gray green trunks were in the foreground of the Master Planter's +color design, the darker and taller background being a mixture of wild +cherry, red oak, linden, and white ash. The high notes were given by +the rose purple of the raspberry, the dark maroon of the blackberry, +and the orange varnished budscales of the aspens themselves,--Nature +never forgets her color accents. In the earliest warm days of February +the catkins of the aspens were peeping from their imprisoning scales, +and by the first of March they were half out, their white silken +fringes and tiny clusters of rose-pink stamens glistening in the +sunlight as if spring's pink cheeks were sheltered by soft, gray fur. +We look up at these fleecy clusters, freed from the brownish +budscales, with a far background of bluest sky, and think that it must +have been such a grove as this to which the Princess Nausicca sent +Ulysses to wait for her, described by Homer as "a beautiful grove of +aspen poplars, a fountain and a meadow." + +Only an aspen tree in an Iowa slough! Yes, but more than that. This is +the first sign of the resurrection which we call spring. When the +pilgrims to the Eleusinian mysteries were ridiculed because of the +commonplace nature of their symbols, they rightly replied that more +than that which met the eye existed in the sacred things; that +whosoever entered the temple of Lindus, to do honor to Demeter, the +productive and nourishing power of the earth, must be pure in heart if +he would gain reward. The square, the flag, the cross, the swelling +bud of spring, what are they all but symbols of the realities? + +We shall forget these first humble flowers of spring by-and-by when +we find a brilliant cardinal flower, or a showy lady's slipper, just +as we forget the timid, tender tones of the bluebird when the grand +song of the grosbeak floods the evening air, or the exquisite melody +of the hermit thrush spiritualizes the leafy woods; just as many a man +forgets the ministrations of his humbler friends in early life when he +has climbed into the society of those whom earth calls great. But the +aspens will neither grieve nor murmur. They will continue to make +delightful color contrasts with their smooth white trunks at the +gateways of the dark woods in winter and whisper to every lightest +breeze with their delicate leaves in summer. The aspen, like the +grass, hastens to cover every wound and burn on the face of nature. It +follows the willow in reclaiming the sandy river bottoms and replaces +the pines which fire has swept from the Rocky Mountain slopes. It has +a record in the rocks and a richer story in literature. Its trembling +leaves have caught the attention of all the poets from Homer until +now. The Scottish legend says they tremble because the cross of +Calvary was made from an aspen tree. The German legend says the +trembling is a punishment because the aspen refused to bow when the +Lord of Life walked in the forest. But the Hebrew chronicler says that +the Lord once made his presence upon the earth heard in the movement +of the aspen leaves. "And it shall be, when thou shalt hear a sound of +going in the tops of the aspen [wrongly translated mulberry] trees, +that then thou shalt go forth to battle; for God is gone before thee +to smite the host of the Philistines." What a fine conception of the +nearness of the Omnipresent and the gentleness of the Almighty! No +sound or sign from the larger trees! Only the whisper of the lightest +leaves in the aspen tops when the Maker of the world went by! + +The aspen was made the chief tree in the groves of Proserpine. And +Homer, in describing the Cyclops' country, speaks of it as a land of +soft marshy meadows, good rich crumbling plow land, and beautiful +clear springs, with aspens all around them. How much that sounds like +a description of Iowa! + + * * * * * + +The willow is equally distinguished. The roots of its "family tree" +are in the cretaceous rocks and its branches spread through the waters +of Babylon, the Latin eclogues, the wondrous fire in the Knightes' +Tale, Shakespeare's plays, the love songs of Herrick and Moore, and +across the ocean to the New World, adorning the sermons of Cotton +Mather, the humor of Hosea Bigelow, and the nature poems of Whittier. + + _"For ages, on our river borders, + These tassels in their tawny bloom + And willowy studs of downy silver + Have prophesied of spring to come. + + "Thanks, Mary, for this wildwood token + Of Freya's footsteps drawing near; + Almost, as in the rune of Asgard, + The growing of the grass I hear."_ + +Nor must the hazel in this earliest spring bouquet be forgotten. The +crimson stars of its fertile flowers, ten or a dozen little rays at +the ends of the scaly buds on the bare stems, are the most richly +colored flowers of the earliest spring. Some years they are formed as +early as the twentieth of March. When you find them then look for the +re-appearance of the mud-turtles down in the valleys and listen for +the first feeble croaks of the frogs. The old Greeks watched the tiny +inner scales of these fertile flowers grow into the husk of the nut, +fancied its resemblance to a helmet, and called the bush _corys_; +whence its botanic name _corylus_. Its English name comes from the +Saxon _haesle_, a cap. The growing hazel nuts gladdened the children +of most of the early civilized world. One of the shepherds in Vergil's +fifth eclogue invites the other to "sit beneath the grateful shade, +which hazels interlaced with elms have made;" but this hazel of which +Menelaus spoke was a tree. The Romans regarded the hazel as an emblem +of peace and a means of reconciling those who had been estranged. When +the gods made Mercury their messenger they gave him a hazel rod to be +used in restoring harmony among the human race. Later he added the +twisted serpents at the top of this caduceus. The caduceus also had +the power of producing sleep, hence Milton calls it "the opiate rod." + +When the crimson threads appear in the scaly buds the staminate +catkins are lengthening, and soon the high wind shakes the golden +pollen over all the copse. These flowers which appear before the +leaves all depend upon the wind for their fertilization. That is why +they come before the leaves. And there is always wind enough to meet +all their needs. + +March is a masculine month. It was named after the war god and it +always lives up to its traditions. It has had scant courtesy from the +literary men. + + _"Ah, passing few are they who speak, + Wild, stormy month, in praise of thee."_ + +'Twas a night in March when little Gavroche took his infant proteges +into the old elephant which stood in the Place de la Bastile to +shelter them from the cruel wind. It was in the twilight of a day in +March, when the wind howled dismally, that Boniface Willet, in +_Barnaby Rudge_, flattened his fat nose against the window pane and +made one of his famous predictions. It must have been a March freshet +when the Knight Huldebrand put Bertalda into Kuhleborn's wagon and the +gentle Undine saved them both. And we fancy that it was a cold night +in March when Peter stood by the fire and warmed himself. + +But the winds of March deserve a word of praise, as everyone knows who +has filled his lungs with their vitalizing freshness and felt the +earth respond to their purifying influence. They are only boisterous, +not cruel. The specters of miasma and contagion flee before them like +the last leaves. Many of the oaks have held a wealth of withered +foliage all the winter but now the leaves fly almost as fast as they +did in late October, and make a dry, rustling carpet up to your shoe +tops. Now and again the wind gets down into this leaf-carpet and makes +merry sport. + +Listen to the majestic roar of the winds in a grove of rugged oaks, +and then again, for contrast, where the timber on the river bottom is +all-yielding birch. It is like changing from the great _diapason_ to +the _dulciana_ stop. In the mixed woodlands, so common in Iowa, the +effect is even more delightful. The coarse, angular, unyielding twigs +of the oaks give deep tones like the vibrations of the thick strings +on the big double bass. The opposite, widespreading twigs of the ash +sing like the cello, and the tones of the alternate spray of the +lindens are finer, like the viola. The still smaller, opposite twigs +of the maples murmur like the tender tones of the altos and the fine, +yielding spray of the birches, the feathery elm and the hackberry make +music pure and sweet as the wailing of the first violins. When the +director of this _maestoso_ March movement signals _fortissimo_ the +effect is sublime and the fine ear shall not fail to detect the +overtones which come from the hop hornbeams and the hazel in the +undergrowth below. + +In keeping with the majestic orchestra is the continuous noise of +grinding ice from the river. There is a sign at the edge of the birch +swamp which says: "Positively no trespassing allowed here"--but it is +not necessary now, for the river has overflowed the swamp and big +masses of ice lean up against the trunks of the birches. Out in the +main channel the river is swiftly flowing, packed with ice floes, from +the little clear fragments which shine like crystals, to the great +masses as big as the side of a house, bearing upon them the +accumulated dust and dirt and uncleanness of the winter. Pieces of +trees, trunks and roots, cornstalks from fields along the shore, all +are being carried seaward. In the middle of the river the prow of a +flat boat projects upward from between two huge ice floes which have +mashed it, like a miniature wreck in arctic seas. The best view of +this annual ice spectacle is to look up the river and see the big +field of broken, tumbling, crashing, grinding ice coming down. + +Farther down, at the narrows of the river, where the heavy timber +shuts out the sunlight, the ice has not given way and here a gorge is +formed. Hundreds of tons of ice are washed swiftly up to it and stop +with a crash. The water backs up, flows over the banks and fills up +all the summer fish ponds along the shore. Some of it forces its way +through, foaming into a white spray. By-and-bye, under the combined +influence of the rushing water and the ever increasing weight of the +ice, the gorge gives way and the irresistible floes pass on with a +mighty crash to their dissolution in the summery waters away down the +Mississippi. After many months of shrouded death this new life of the +river is also a symbol of the resurrection. + + * * * * * + +There are other days in March so soft and beautiful that they might +well have a place in May. + + _"And in thy reign of blast and storm, + Smiles many a long, bright, sunny day + When the changed winds are soft and warm, + And heaven puts on the blue of May."_ + +From the summit of a thinly-treed hill we look across a wide valley on +the right which gradually slopes up to a high ridge three miles away. +On the left there is a clear view for fully twenty miles, out to where +the lavender haze hangs softly on the forest-fringed horizon. The +plowed fields lie mellow and chocolate-hued in the sunlight and the +russet meadows are beginning to show a faint undertone of green. The +golden green of the willow fences which separate some of the fields +shines from afar in the abundant light and there is a quickening +crimson in the tops of the red maple groves around the homesteads. The +deep blue of the high-domed sky gives a glory to the landscape. The +few, far clouds, soft and white, float slowly in the azure sea and now +and then approach the throne of the king of day, sending dark shadows +chasing the sunlight over the smiling fields. When these shadows reach +the nearer woodlands across the valley on the right it is as if a +moving belt of dark pines was swiftly passing through the deciduous +forest. We think of Birnam wood removing to Dunsinane, but that was +trivial compared with this. The dark belt of shadow makes a strong and +beautiful contrast to the reddish brown and gray of the winter woods. + +The river is more than bank full. Shut in on one side by the high +ridge upon which we are standing it has spread over half a mile of +bottom on the other side. Once more, after many months of waiting we +rejoice in the gleam of its waters. The broad valley, which has so +long been paved with white, is bottomed with amethyst now, the fainter +reflection of the azure sky above. The trees which have so long stood +comfortless again see their doubles in the waters below. The huge gray +trunks of the water elms and the silver maples, the red rags of the +birches and the delicate tracery of their spray, the ruby gold of the +willows, the shining white of the sycamores, the ashen green of the +poplars and the dark crimson of the wild rose and the red osier +dogwood,--all these are reflected as from a vast mirror. + +There is not a ripple on the surface. But anon a belated ice floe +comes down the main channel and shows how swiftly the waters are +flowing now that they once more move "unvexed to the sea." There are +still some masses hugging the shore. One by one they slip into the +waters and float away,--just as a man's prejudices and delusions are +the last to leave him after the light of truth and the warmth of love +have set his soul free from the bondage of error and wrong. + +The stillness is a marked contrast to the recent roar of the winds. +You may hear your watch ticking in your pocket. The leisurely tapping +of a downy woodpecker sounds like the ticking of a clock in a vast +ancestral hall. You may actually hear a squirrel running down a tree, +twenty rods away. He paws out an acorn and begins to eat. The noise of +your footstep seems like a profanation of holy ground. Also it +disturbs the squirrel who scurries up to the topmost twigs of an elm +nearly a hundred feet high. With a glass you may see his eyes shine as +he watches you. His long red tail hangs down still and straight and +there is not breeze enough, even up there, to stir it. + +Gnats and moths flit in the soft sunlight and spiders run over tree +trunks while their single shining lines of silk are stretched among +the hazel. + +Anon the bird chorus breaks out, full and strong. The winter birds +report all present but there are a number of new voices, especially +the warble of the robin, the tremulous, confiding "sol-si, sol-si" of +the bluebird and the clear call of the phoebe. The robins are thick +down in the birch swamps, on the islands among the last year's +knot-weed. You may tell them at a distance by their trim, military +manner of walking, and if you wish you may get close enough to them to +take their complete description. And, by the way, how many can +describe this common bird, the color of his head and bill, his back +and tail, and the exact shade of his breast. Is there any white on +him, and if so, where? + +After the ice is out of the rivers the bird-lover is kept busy. In the +early sunny morning the duet of the robins and the meadow larks is +better than breakfast. March usually gives us the hermit thrush and +the ruby-and golden-crowned kinglets; the song, field, fox, white +throated, Savannah and Lincoln sparrows; the meadow lark, the bronzed +grackle and the cowbird; the red-winged, the yellow-head and the rusty +blackbirds; the wood pewee and the olive-sided flycatcher; the flicker +and the sap-sucker, the mourning dove and several of the water fowl. +Last week--the first week in March--a golden eagle paused in his +migration to sit awhile on a fence post at the side of a timber road. +Two men got near enough to see the color of his feathers and then one +of them, with a John Burroughs instinct, took a shot at him. He +missed; there was a spread of the great wings and the big bird +resumed his journey northward. + + * * * * * + +By the shallow creek which ripples over the many-hued gravel there is +much of interest. The frog sits on the bank as we approach and goes +into the water with a splash. In the quiet little bayous the minnows +are lively, and tracks upon the soft mud show that the mink has been +watching them. A pile of neatly cleaned clam shells is evidence that +the muskrat has had a feast. There is a huge clam, partly opened, at +arm's length from the shore. We fish it out and pry it open farther; +out comes the remains of the esculent clam, and we almost jump when it +is followed by a live and healthy crawfish. + +It never pays to be a clam. It is very meet, right, and the bounden +duty of every quadruped, biped and decapod to prey upon the clam. + +Farther down is a sandy hollow which was deep under water in the great +January freshet. That freshet deposited a new layer of sand and also +bushels of clam and snail shells of all sizes and species. They lie so +thick they may be taken up by the shovelful. Two or three dead fish +are also found. What a fine fossiliferous stratum will be found here +about a hundred million years from now! + +In March the rains and the melting of the "robin snows" soften the +leathery lichens and their painted circles on the trees and rocks vary +from olive gray and green to bright red and yellow. They revel in the +moist gray days. And the mosses which draw a tapestry of tender velvet +around the splintered rocks in the timber quarries and strangely veil +the ruin of the fallen forest kings,--how much they add to the beauty +of the landscape in the interval between the going of the snow and the +coming of the grass! The rich dark green of the common hair-cap +clothes many a bank with beauty, the dense tufts of the broom moss +hide the ruin and assuage the grief where an exalted forest monarch +has been cast down by the storm. The silvery Bryum shows abundantly on +the sandy fields and the thick green velvet mats of the Anomodon creep +up the bases of the big water elms in the swamps. The delicate +branchlets of the beautiful fern moss are recompense for a day's +search, and the bright yellow-green Schreber's Hypnum, with its red +stems, is a rich rug for reluctant feet. The moist rocks down which +the water trickles into the ravine below are stained green and orange +by the glossy Entodon. These patient mosses cover wounds in the +landscape gently as tender thoughts soothe aching voids left by the +loss of those we love. They lead us into the most entrancing bits of +the woodland scenery--shaded rills, flowing springs, dashing cascades, +fairy glens, and among the castellated rocks of the dark ravines. +Their parts are so exquisitely perfect, almost they persuade the +nature-lover to degenerate into a mere naturalist, walking through the +woods seeing nothing but sporophytes through his lens, just as a rare +book sometimes causes the bibliophile to become a bibliomaniac, +reading nothing but catalogues. It is a credit to be a bibliomaniac +provided one is a bibliophile as well. And the best moss naturalists +are they whose hearts respond to the enthusiasm in Ruskin's closing +paragraphs of _Leaves Motionless_. + + * * * * * + +The yielding odorous soil is promiseful after its stubborn hardness of +winter months and we watch it eagerly for the first herbaceous growth. +Often this is one of the fern allies, the field horsetail. The +appearance of its warm, mushroom-colored, fertile stems is one of the +first signs of returning spring, and its earliest stems are found in +dry sandy places. The buds containing its fruiting cones have long +been all complete, waiting for the first warm day, and when the start +is finally made the tubered rootstocks, full of nutriment, send up the +slender stem at the rate of two inches a day. + +During the last week in the month, when the dark maroon flowers of the +elm and the crimson blossom of the red maples are giving a ruddy glow +to the woods with the catkins of the cotton-woods, the aspens and the +red birches adding to the color harmony, we shall look for the fuzzy +scape of the hepatica, bringing up through the leaf carpet of the +woods its single blue, white or pinkish flower, closely wrapped in +warm gray furs. At the same time, perhaps a day or two earlier, the +white oblong petals of the dwarf trillium, or wake-robin, will gleam +in the rich woods. And some sunny day in the same period we shall see +a gleam of gold in a sheltered nook, the first flower of the +dandelion. A few days later and the light purple pasque-flower will +unfold and gem the flush of new life on the northern prairies. Even +should the last week of the month be unseasonably cold we shall not +have long to wait. Yet + + _"----a little while + And air, soil, wave, suffused shall be in softness, bloom and + growth; a thousand forms shall rise + From these dead clods and chills, as from low burial graves, + Thine eyes, ears,--all thy best attributes,--all that takes + cognizance of natural beauty, + Shall wake and fill. Thou shalt perceive the simple shows, + the delicate miracles of earth + Dandelions, clover, the emerald grass, the early scents and flowers; + With these the robin, lark and thrush, singing their songs--the + flitting bluebird; + For such scenes the annual play brings on."_ + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Some Winter Days in Iowa, by Frederick John Lazell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOME WINTER DAYS IN IOWA *** + +***** This file should be named 18174.txt or 18174.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/1/7/18174/ + +Produced by Brian Sogard, Richard J. 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