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diff --git a/18249.txt b/18249.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f1764ba --- /dev/null +++ b/18249.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2181 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Some Summer 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 Summer Days in Iowa + +Author: Frederick John Lazell + +Release Date: April 24, 2006 [EBook #18249] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOME SUMMER DAYS IN IOWA *** + + + + +Produced by Brian Sogard, Richard J. Shiffer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + + + +Some Summer Days in Iowa + + +BY + + +Frederick John Lazell + + +_A book of the seasons, each page of which should be written in +its own season and out of doors, or in its own locality, wherever +it may be._--THOREAU + + + +CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA +THE TORCH PRESS +NINETEEN HUNDRED NINE + + + +COPYRIGHT 1909 +BY +FRED J. LAZELL + + +[Illustration: "HAS CUT ITS WAY STRAIGHT DOWN THE FACE OF A CLIFF" (p. +111)] + + + + +PREFACE + + +Like the two preceding little volumes of this series, this book seeks +to show something of what Iowa has to offer to the man who loves the +out-of-doors. There is nothing very unusual in it. The trees and the +flowers, the birds and the small wild animals which it mentions and +describes are such as may be seen in the Iowa fields and woods by +anyone who cares enough about them to walk amid their haunts. The +illustrations are such as the ordinary nature lover may "take" for +himself with his pocket kodak. The woodthrush built in a thicket by +the bungalow and borrowed a paper napkin for her nest. The chipmunk +came every morning for his slice of bread. And then the woodchuck +learned to be unafraid. + +It has long been the author's belief that Iowa has just as much to +offer the nature lover as any other part of the world--that she has +indeed a richer flora than many states--and that every true Iowan +ought to know something of her trees and shrubs and herbs, her birds +and animals, and to feel something of the beauty of her skies and her +landscapes. There is so much beauty all around us, every day of the +year, shall we not sometimes lift our eyes to behold it? + +The majority of Iowa people still find pleasure in the simple life, +still have the love for that which Nature so freely bestows. They find +time to look upon the beauty of the world. Many a busy man finds his +best recreation in the woods and fields. It may be only a few hours +each week, but it is enough to keep the music of the flowing waters +ever in his ears and the light of the sunshine in his eyes. It is +enough to give the men and the women of the state wholesome views of +life, happy hearts and broad sympathies. Some few find in the woods +and fields thoughts and feelings which are, to them, almost akin to +religion. If this little book helps such lovers of the out-of-doors +ever so little; if it shall help others to see for themselves the +beauty and the joy and the goodness of this world in which we live, +the author will feel that it has been worth while. + + + + +VII.--AN OLD ROAD IN JULY + + +In the old woods road a soft haze hung, too subtle to see save where +its delicate colorings were contrasted against the dark green leaves +of the oaks beyond the fence. Not the tangible, vapory haze of early +morning, but a tinted, ethereal haze, the visible effluence of the +summer, the nimbus of its power and glory. From tall cord grasses +arching over the side of the road, drawing water from the ditch in +which their feet were bathed and breathing it into the air with the +scent of their own greenness; from the transpiration of the trees, +shrubs and vines, flowers and mosses and ferns, from billions of pores +in acres of leaves it came streaming into the sunlight, vanishing +quickly, yet ever renewed, as surely as the little brook where the +grasses drank and the grackles fished for tadpoles and young frogs, +was replenished by the hidden spring. Mingled with it and floating in +it was another stream of life, the innumerable living organisms that +make up the dust of the sunshine. Pink and white, black and yellow +spores from the mushrooms over the fence in the pasture; pollen pushed +from the glumes of the red top grasses and the lilac spires of the +hedge nettle and germander by the roadside; shoals of spores from the +mosses and ferns by the trees and in the swamp; all these life +particles rose and floated in the haze, giving it tints and meanings +strangely sweet. When a farmer's buggy passed along the old road the +haze became a warm pink, like some western sky in the evening, slowly +clearing again to turquoise as the dust settled. Viewed in this way, +the haze became a mighty, broad-mouthed river of life, fed by billions +of tiny streams and moving ever toward the vast ocean of the sunlight. +Faintly visible to the discerning eye, it was also audible to the +attentive ear, listening as one listens at the edge of a field in the +night time to hear the growing of the corn. If all the millions of +leaves had ceased their transpiration, if this flow of life had been +shut off, as the organist pushes in the tremolo stop, the sound of the +summer would not have been the same. Something of the strength and +joy of the summer was in it. Drinking deeply of it the body was +invigorated and the heart grew glad. In it the faith of the winter's +buds and the hope of the spring's tender leaves found rich +fulfillment. Theirs was a life of hope and promise that the +resurrection should come; this was the glorious life after the +resurrection, faith lost in sight and patient hope crowned. + + * * * * * + +Slender white minarets of the Culver's root, rising from green towers +above the leafy architecture of the woodland undergrowth and reaching +toward the light of the sky, told the time of the year as plainly as +if a muezzin had appeared on one of its leafy balconies and proclaimed +a namaz for the middle of July. Beholding them from afar, honey bees +came on humming wings for the nectar lying deep in their tiny florets. +Eager stamens reached out far beyond the blossoms to brush the bees' +backs with precious freights of pollen to be transported to the +stigmas of older flowers. Playing each its part in the plan of the +universe, flower and insect added its mite to the life and the +loveliness of the summer. From the sunshine and the soil-water the +long leaves manufactured food for the growth of the plant. Prettily +notched, daintily tapering, and arranged in star-like whorls about the +stem, they enhanced the beauty of the flowers above them and attracted +the observer to the exquisite order governing their growth. When the +leaves were arranged in whorls of four, the floral spires were +quadruple, like the pinnacles on a church tower; if the green towers +were hexagonal, then six white minarets pointed to the sky. The +perfect order of the solar system and the majesty of the Mind which +planned it, was manifested in this single plant. So does beauty lead +the way to the mountain tops of truth. By the road of earthly beauty +we may always reach religion and truth is ever beckoning us to new and +nobler visions. That "thread of the all-sustaining beauty, which runs +through all and doth all unite" gently leads us from the things which +are tangible and temporal to the truths which are spiritual and +eternal; from the beauty of the concrete to the beauty of the +abstract, onward along the road of beauty and farther up the heights +of truth until our admiration for the beauty of the sunrise, the snow +crystal, the graceful spray of the trees in winter, the exquisite +order and harmony of the universe from the orbit of the largest planet +to the flow of life in the tiniest leaf, develops into a lasting love +for beauty in life and in character; and still farther up the heights +into an atmosphere of intelligent, rational, genuine love for the +Great First Cause of all beauty. As the heart opens to receive the +beauty of the world, as the mind and soul strive, like the plants, for +the highest development, so is the world redeemed from error and crime +and the perfection of the race is attained. If one soul finds this +truth more quickly and easily here amid the trees and flowers, for him +is the old road greater than religious dogmas or social systems. + + * * * * * + +Always beautiful and interesting, in these long days of mid-July the +old road is at its best. No length of day can measure its loveliness +or encompass its charm. Very early in the morning there is a faint +rustle of the leaves, a delicate flutter through the woods as if the +awakening birds are shaking out their wings. Shrubs and bushes and +trunks of trees have ghostly shapes in the few strange moments that +are neither the darkness nor the dawn. As the light steals through the +woods their forms grow less grotesque. In the half light a phoebe +begins her shrill song. A blue-jay screams. The quail sounds his first +"Bob White." Brown thrashers in the thicket--it is past their time of +singing--respond with a strange, sibilant sound, a mingled hiss and +whistle, far different from his ringing songs of May, now only +memories; different also from her scoldings when she was disturbed on +her nest and from her tender crooning calls to her babies during June. + +As the light increases waves of delicate color appear in the sky to +the northeast, and by and by the sun's face appears over the tops of +the trees. He shoots arrows of pale flame through the woods. In the +clearing the trunks of the trees are like cathedral pillars, and the +sunlight comes down in slanting rays as if the openings among the +tree-tops were windows and the blue haze beneath the incense of the +morning mass. Black-capped precentor of the avian choir, the chickadee +sounds two sweet tones, clear and musical, like keynotes blown from a +silver pipe. The wood thrush sounds a few organ tones, resonant and +thrilling. It is almost his last summer service; soon, like the +thrashers, he will be drooping and silent. The chewink, the indigo +bird, the glad goldfinches, the plaintive pewees are the sopranos; the +blue-bird, the quail, with her long, sweet call, and the grosbeak, +with his mellow tones, are the altos; the nuthatch and the tanager +take up the tenor, while the red-headed woodpeckers, the crows and the +cuckoos bear down heavy on the bass. Growing with the light, the fugue +swells into crescendo. Lakes of sunshine and capes of shadow down the +old road are more sharply defined. Bushes of tall, white melilot, +clustered with myriads of tiny flowers, exhale a sweet fragrance into +the morning air. The clearing around the house is flooded with +sunlight. In the wooded pasture some trunks are bathed with a golden +glory, while others yet stand iron gray in the deep shadows. The +world is awake. The day's work begins. One late young redhead in a +hole high up in the decaying trunk of an aspen tree calls loudly for +his breakfast, redoubling his noise as his mother approaches with the +first course. Sitting clumsily on a big stump, a big baby cowbird, +well able to shift for himself, shamelessly takes food from his little +field sparrow foster-mother, scarcely more than half his size. Soon he +will leave her and join the flocks of his kindred in the oat-fields +and the swamps. Young chewinks are being fed down among the ripening +May-apples in the pasture. A catbird with soft "quoots" assembles her +family in the hazel and the wood-thrush sounds warning "quirts" as +fancied peril approaches her children beneath the ripening +blackberries. From the top of a tall white oak a red squirrel leaps to +the arching branches of an elm, continuing his foraging there. Sitting +straight up on a mossy log the chipmunk holds in his paws a bit of +bread thrown from somebody's basket, nibbles at it for a while and +then makes a dash for the thicket, carrying the bread in his mouth. + +[Illustration: "EVERY TREE IS A PICTURE" (p. 22)] + +Tiny rabbits venture out from the tall grasses and look on life with +timid eyes. Bees and butterflies are busy with the day's work. Life +with its beauty and its joy is everywhere abundant. Living things swim +in and upon the brook, insects run and leap among the grasses, winged +creatures are in the shrubs, the trees, the air, active, eager, +beautiful life is everywhere. The heart thrills with the beauty, the +joy, the zest, the abundance of it, expands to a capacity for the +amplitude of it. Human life grows sweeter, richer, more worth while. +There is so much to live for, so much to hope for; this is the meaning +and the glory of the summer. + + * * * * * + +Farther out, where the old road leaves the woods, the landscape is +like a vast park, more beautiful than many a park which the world +calls famous. From the crest of the ridge the fields roll away in +graceful curves, dotted with comfortable homes and groves and skirted +by heavy timber down in the valley where the sweet water of the river +moves quietly over the white sand. Still responding to the freshening +impulse of the June rains, fields and woods are all a-quiver with +growth. By master magic soil-water and sunshine are being changed into +color and form to delight the eye and food to do the world's work. +Every tree is a picture, each leaf is as fresh and clean as the +rain-washed air of the morning. From the low meadows the perfume of +the hay is brought up by the languid breeze. Amber oat-fields are +ripening in the sun and in the corn-fields there is a sense of the +gathering force of life as the sturdy plants lift themselves higher +and higher during + + _"The long blue solemn hours, serenely flowing + Whence earth, we feel, gets steady help and good."_ + +Many a tourist comes home to a land like this, weary and penniless, +like Sir Launfal after his fruitless quest, to discover that the grail +of health and rest and beauty which he sought afar so strenuously is +most easily and readily found at home. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "CURVES WHICH ADD MUCH TO ITS WILD BEAUTY" (p. 23)] + +Ceaselessly up and down the old road passes the pageant of the year, +never two days the same, especially at this season. In the middle of +the road is a dirt wagon-track, on either side of which is a broad +belt of grass, flowers, shrubs and small trees till you come to the +fence. Beyond one fence the thick woods has a heavy undergrowth; over +the other is a well-wooded pasture. On the south side, between the +road and the fence there is a little brook, sometimes with a high, +mossy and timbered bank, sometimes completely hidden by tall grasses. +The road rises and falls in gentle grades, with alternating banks and +swales. At one high point there is a view down the long avenue of +trees across the open valley beyond, where the city lies snugly, and +then upward to the timber on the far heights across the river where +the hills are always softly blue, no matter what the season of the +year. Sometimes the old road sweeps around fine old trees in +unmathematical curves which add much to its wild beauty. The first man +who drove along it, a hundred years or more ago, followed a cow-path +and the road hasn't changed much since, though the fences which were +later threaded through the shrubs and trees on either side, run +straighter. Never was summer day long enough for me to see and to +study all that the old road had to show. Here, at the moist edge of +the road, the ditch stone-crop is opening its yellow-green flowers, +each one a study in perfect symmetry. With the showy, straw-colored +cyperus it flourishes under the friendly shade of the overhanging +cord-grasses whose flowering stalks already have shot up beyond the +reach of a man. Among them grows the tall blue vervain, its tapering +fingers adorned with circles of blue flowers, like sapphire rings +passing from the base to the tips of the fingers. You must part these +grasses and pass through them to see the thicket of golden-rod making +ready for the yellow festival later on. White cymes of spicy basil are +mingled with the purple loosestrife and back of these the fleabanes +lift daisy-like heads among the hazel overhanging the wire fence. Then +the elms and the oaks and in the openings the snowy, starry campion +whose fringed petals are beginning to close, marking the morning's +advance. In the moist places the Canada lily glows like a flaming +torch, its pendant bells slowly swinging in the breeze, ringing in +the annual climax and jubilee of the flowering season. + +Across the road the monkey flower grins affably at the edge of the +grass and the water hemlock, with a hollow stem as big as a gun-barrel +and tall as a man, spreads its large umbels of tiny white flowers on +curving branches like a vase-shaped elm in miniature. Twice or thrice +pinnate leaves, toothed like a tenon saw, with conspicuous veins +ending in the notches, brand it as the beaver poison, otherwise known +as the musquash root and spotted cowbane. From its tuberous roots was +prepared the poison which Socrates drank without fear; why should he +fear death? Does he not still live among us? Does he not question us, +teach us? Yellow loose-strifes and rattle-box are in the swamp, and a +patch of swamp milkweed with brilliant fritillaries sipping nectar +from its purple blossoms. White wands of meadow-sweet, clusters of +sensitive fern, a big shrub of pussy willow with cool green leaves as +grateful now as the white and gold blossoms were in April; white +trunks and fluttering leaves of small aspens where the grosbeak has +just finished nesting; bushy willows and withes of young poplar; +nodding wool-grasses and various headed sedges; all these are between +the roadside and the fence. There the elder puts out blossoms of spicy +snow big as dinner-plates and the Maryland yellow-throat who has four +babies in the bulky nest at the foot of the black-berry bush sits and +sings his "witchity, witchity, witchity." The lark sparrow has her +nest at the foot of a thistle and her mate has perched so often on a +small elm near-by that he has worn several of the leaves from a +topmost twig. In the late afternoons and evenings he sits there and +vies with the indigo bunting who sits on the bare branches at the top +of a tall red oak, throwing back his little head and pouring out sweet +rills of melody. Near him is the dickcissel, incessantly singing from +the twig of a crab-apple; these three make a tireless trio, singing +each hour of the day. The bunting's nest is in a low elm bush close to +the fence where a wee brown bird sits listening to the strains of the +bright little bird above and the little dickcissels have just +hatched out in the nest at the base of a tussock not very far away. + +Now the evening primrose at the side of the road has folded all its +yellow petals, marking the near approach of noon. Growing near it on +this rise of the road are lavender-flowered bergamot, blue and gold +spiderwort, milkweeds in a purple glory, black-eyed Susans basking in +the sun, cone-flowers with brown disks and purple petals, like gypsy +maidens with gaudy summer shawls. Closer to the fence are lemon-yellow +coreopsis with quaint, three-cleft leaves; thimble weeds with fruit +columns half a finger's length; orange-flowered milkweed, like the +color of an oriole's back, made doubly gay by brilliant butterflies +and beetles. On the sandy bank which makes the background for this +scene of splendor, the New Jersey tea, known better as the red-root, +lifts its feathery white plumes above restful, gray-green leaves. Just +at the fence the prairie willow has a beauty all its own, with a +wealth of leaves glossy dark green above and woolly white below. + +There's a whine as if someone had suddenly struck a dog and a brownish +bird runs crouching through the grass while little gingery-brown +bodies scatter quickly for their hiding places. It was near here that +the quail had her nest in June and these are her babies. I reach down +and get one, a little bit of a chick scarcely bigger than the end of +my thumb. The mother circles around, quite near, with alarm and +distress until I back away and watch. Then she comes forward, softly +clucking, and soon gathers her chickens under her wings. + +Similar behavior has the ruffed grouse which you may still find +occasionally in the deeper woods. Stepping over the fallen tree you +send the little yellow-brown babies scattering, like fluffy golf-balls +rolling for cover. Invariably the old bird utters a cry of pain and +distress, puts her head down low and skulks off through the grass and +ferns while the chicks hasten to hide themselves. Your natural +inclination is to follow the mother, and then she will take very short +flights, alternated with runs in the grass, until she has led you far +from her family. Then a whirr of strong wings and she is gone back to +the cover where she clucks them together. But if you first turn your +attention to the chicks the mother will turn on her trail, stretch out +her long, broad, banded tail into a beautiful fan, ruffle up the +feathers on either side of her neck and come straight towards you. +Often she will stretch her neck and hiss at you like a barn-yard +goose. There is a picture of the ruffed grouse worth while. You will +learn more about the ruffed grouse in an experience like this than you +can find in forty books. If you pause to admire this turkey-gobbler +attitude of the grouse she thinks she has succeeded in attracting your +attention. The tail fan closes and droops, the wings fall, the ruffs +smooth down. With her head close to the ground, she once more attempts +to lead you from her children. If you are heartless enough you may +again hunt for the chicks and back will come the old bird again, +almost to your feet, with feathers all outstretched. + + * * * * * + +Creamy clusters of the bunch-flower rise from the brink of the brook +and near-by there are the large leaves of the arrow-head, with its +interesting stalk, bearing homely flowers below and interesting +chalices of white and gold above. Shining up through the long grasses, +the five-pointed white stars of the little marsh bell-flower are no +more dismayed by the stately beauty of the tall blue bell-flower over +the fence, with its long strings of blossoms set on edge like dainty +Delft-blue saucers, than the Pleiades are shamed by the splendor of +Aldebaran and Betelguese on a bright night in November. Clover-like +heads of the milkwort decorate the bank, and among the mosses around +the bases of the trees the little shin-leaf lifts its pretty white +racemes. + +Twisting and twining among the hazel, long stems of wild yam display +pretty leaves in graceful strings, each leaf set at the angle which +secures the greatest amount of light. On the wire fence the +bittersweet hangs and reaches from thence to the top of the low +hawthorne, seeking the strength of the sun for the ripening of its +pods, which slowly change from green to yellow as the month advances. +Thickly-prickled stems of green-brier, the wild smilax, rise to the +height of the choke-cherry shrubs and the branches lift themselves +by means of two tendrils on each leaf-stalk to the most favorable +positions for the sunlight. Under these broad leaves the catbird is +concealed. Elegant epicurean, he is sampling the ripening +choke-cherries. He complains querulously at being disturbed, flirts +his tail and flies. Stout branches of sumac, with bark colored and +textured much like brown egg-shell, sustain a canopy of wild grape, +the clusters of green fruit only partly hidden by the broad leaves. +Curiously beautiful are the sumac's leaves, showing long leaf-stalks +of pink purple and pretty leaflets strung regularly on either side. +The sumac's fruit, unlike the grape's, seeks no concealment; proudly +lifting its glowing torches above the leafy canopy, it lights the old +road for the passing of the pageant of summer. From greenish gold to +scarlet, swiftly changing to carmine, terra cotta, crimson and garnet, +so glows and deepens the color in the torches. When comes the final +garnet glow not even the cold snows of winter can quench it. + +[Illustration: "THE SUMAC'S TORCHES LIGHT UP THE OLD ROAD" (p. 35)] + +Around the fence-post, where the versi-colored fungus grows, the +moon-seed winds its stems, like strands of twine. Its broad leaves are +set like tilted mirrors to catch and reflect the light. Trailing among +the grass the pea-vine lifts itself so that its blossoms next month +shall attract the bees. The wild hop is reaching over the bushes for +the branches of the low-growing elm from which to hang its fruit +clusters. Circling up the trunk and the spreading branches of the elm, +the Virginia creeper likewise strives for better and greater light. +Flower and vine, shrub and tree, each with its own peculiar inherited +tendencies resulting from millions of years of development, strives +ever for perfection. Shall man, with the civilization of untold +centuries at his back to push him on, do less? Endowed with mind and +heart, with spiritual aspirations and a free will, shall he dare cease +to grow? Equipped so magnificently for the light, dare he deliberately +seek the darkness and allow his mental and spiritual fruits to wither? +These are questions to ponder as the afternoon shadows lengthen. + +If you walk through the wooded pasture, close by the side of the +roadside fence, the hollow stumps hold rain-water, like huge tankards +for a feast. Sometimes a shaft of sunlight shoots into the water, +making it glow with color. Fungi in fantastic shapes are plentiful. +Growing from the side of a stump, the stem of the fawn-colored pluteus +bends upwards to the light. Golden clavarias cover fallen trunks with +coral masses and creamy ones are so delicately fragile that you almost +fear to touch them lest you mar their beauty. Brown brackets send out +new surfaces of creamy white on which the children may stencil their +names. That vivid yellow on a far stump is the sulphur-colored +polyporus. Green and red Russulas delight the eye. The lactaria sheds +hot, white milk when you cut it, and the inky coprinus sheds black +rain of its own accord. Puff-balls scatter their spores when you smite +them and the funnel-shaped clitocybe holds water as a wine-glass holds +Sauterne. + +Springing from a log lying by the fence a dozen plants of the +glistening coprinus have reared themselves since morning, fresh from +the rain and flavored as sweet as a nut. Narrow furrows and sharp +ridges adorn their drooping caps; these in turn are decorated with +tiny shining scales. Nibbling at the nut-like flesh, I am touched with +the nicety, the universality of nature's appeal to the finer senses +and sentiments. Here is form and color and sparkle to please the eye, +flesh tender to the touch, aroma that tests the subtlest sense of +smell, taste that recalls stories of Epicurean feasts, millions of +life-germs among the purple-black gills, ready to float in the streams +of the atmosphere to distant realms and other cycles of life. No dead +log and toadstools are here, but dainty shapes with billions of +possibilities for new life, new beauties, new thoughts. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: YOUNG BLUE-JAY TRYING TO CLIMB BACK TO ITS NEST + +"THE WOOD THRUSH HAS A LATE NEST IN A YOUNG ELM" (p. 41) + +"THE CHIPMUNK HOLDS IN HIS PAWS A BIT OF BREAD" (p. 20)] + +Goldfinches ride on the billows of the air, now folding their pinions +and shooting silently downward into the trough of the sea, then +opening their wings and beating their way upwards, singing meanwhile. +Going over the woods they fly twenty to thirty feet above the tops of +the tallest trees, but when they reach the meadow lands they drop +to about the same height above the surface of the ground. Only a few +of them are nesting yet. The tall thistle by the roadside is nearly +ten feet high, but its heads have not fully opened. They like its down +for their nests and its seeds to feed the fledgelings. They fly in +pairs often and in the evenings they cling prettily to the catnip by +the pasture fence, digging into each calyx for its four sweet nutlets. +The woodthrush has a late nest in a young elm; her first family was +eaten by the blue-jays just after the hatching,--so were the young +grosbeaks in a nearby tree, but the cedar waxwings were slain and +eaten by the cannibalistic grackles. A blue-jay is just approaching +the wood pewee's nest in the burr oak, but the doughty husband does +battle with the fierceness of a kingbird and chases him away. Three +tiny birdlings, covered with hairs soft and white as the down of a +thistle, are in the nest, which is saddled snugly to the fork of a +horizontal tree. In another nest, near by, the three eggs have only +just been laid. The path which used to run under the over-hanging +trees is grown up with grasses. Here the slender rush grows best, and +makes a dark crease among the taller and lighter-green grasses, +showing where the path winds. Twenty feet overhead, on the slender +branch of a white oak, is a tiny knot, looking scarcely larger than +the cup of a mossy-cup acorn. It is the nest of the ruby-throated +hummingbird, so well concealed by the leaves and by the lichens +fastened to its exterior that it would not have been noticed at all +but for the whirling wings of the exquisite creature a month ago. Her +two tiny eggs have since been safely hatched and the young birds +reared; now the nest is empty, a prize to be taken and preserved for +future study and admiration. + +At the foot of a figwort stalk in the pasture, shielded by a little +sprig of choke-cherry and a wisp of grasses, a new nest is being +builded. That is why the chewink sings so happily from dawn till dark. +His summer song is now heard more often than his spring song. Through +April, May and June he sings: + + Fah do do'-do'-do'-do'-do' + +But now, this song is heard more often: + + Me' fah'-fah'-fah'-fah'-fah' + +This song is more appropriate to the summer. There is more of fullness +and beauty in it, more of the quality of the woodthrush's songs, for +which it is often mistaken. + + * * * * * + +From a tiny hawthorne bush, no higher than a collie's back, a field +sparrow flies nervously to a low limb of a hickory tree and begs that +her nest be not disturbed. It is neatly placed in the middle of the +bush about a foot from the ground, made of medium grasses and rootlets +and lined with finer grasses and horsehair. The three bluish-white +eggs with rufous markings at the larger end are the field-sparrow's +own. Into a nest found a month ago, at the foot of a yarrow stalk, the +cowbird had sneaked three speckled eggs, leaving only one of the +pretty eggs of the field-sparrow. At that time the cowbirds were to be +seen everywhere; they chattered every morning in the trees, and the +females left their unwelcome eggs in nearly every nest. One little +red-eyed vireo's nest had five cowbirds' eggs,--none of her own. But +the birds which are building now are generally safe from the +parasite. Only rarely is a cowbird's egg found after the middle of +July. No cowbirds have been seen since the first week of the month, +save the young one on the stump, which the field-sparrow was feeding +this morning. They disappear early, seeking seclusion for the +moulting. When they emerge from their hiding places they form into +flocks, spending their days in the grain-fields and near the rivers +where the food is most abundant and easy to procure. At nightfall they +congregate, like the red-winged blackbirds, in the sand-bar willows on +the river islands. + + * * * * * + +Daintily flitting from one branch to another, the redstart weaves +threads of reddish gold and black, like strands of night and noon, +among the old trees. He has wandered over through the woods from the +creek, where his mate built a cup-like nest in a crotch toward the top +of a slender white oak. Busy always, he stays but a few moments and +then passes on as silently as a July zephyr. The halting voice of the +preacher, the red-eyed vireo, comes out of the thicket; then, from an +oak overhead, where a little twig is trembling, the softer voice of +the warbling vireo queries: "Can't you see it's best to sing and work +like me?", with the emphasis on the "me." + +Blue-jays loiter down the old road, making short flights from tree to +tree, moving in the one plane and with slowly beating wings; only +rarely do they fold their wings and dip. Redheads and flickers, like +the other woodpeckers, have a slightly dipping flight. They open and +close their wings in quick succession, not slowly like the +goldfinches; consequently their dips are not so pronounced. The line +of their flight is a ripple rather than a billow. + +Chickadee and his family come chattering through the pasture. They had +a felt-lined nest in a fence-post during the warm days of June; now +they find life easy and sweet--sweet as the two notes mingled with +their chatter. Upside down they cling to the swaying twigs, romping, +disheveled bird-children, full of fun and song-talk. It is nothing to +them that the cruel winds and deep snows of winter will be here all +too soon. Summer days are long and joyous, life stretches out before +them; why waste its hours with frets and fears about the future? +Another round of merry chatter and away they flit. Scarcely have they +gone until a blood-red streak shoots down from the elm tree to the +grass. It is the scarlet tanager. For the last half-hour his loud +notes, tied together in twos, have been ringing from an ash tree in +the pasture, near the spreading oak where the mother sat so closely +during June. Though the nesting season is over he will sing for some +weeks yet. + +So they come and go through the happy golden hours; now the nasal +notes of the nuthatch or the "pleek" of a downy woodpecker in the +pasture, followed by the twittering tones of the chimney-swifts +zigzagging across the sea of blue above, like busy tugboats darting +from side to side of a harbor. Crows string over the woods close to +the tops of the trees, watching with piercing eyes for lone and +hapless fledglings. A cuckoo droops from a tall wild cherry tree on +one side of the road to a tangle of wild grape on the other; he peers +out and gives his rain-crow call. So is the warp of the summer woven +of bird-flight and threaded through with song. + + * * * * * + +When evening comes the sun's last smiles reach far into the timber and +linger lovingly on the boles of the trees with a tender beauty. +Wood-flowers face the vanishing light and hold it until the scalloped +edges of the oak leaves etched against the sky have been blurred by +the gathering darkness. Long streams of cinnabar and orange flare up +in the western sky. Salmon-colored clouds float into sight, grow gray +and gradually melt away. In the dusky depths of the woods the thrush +sings his thrilling, largo appassionato, requiem to the dying day. In +this part of the thicket the catbirds congregate, but over yonder the +brown thrashers are calling to each other. The "skirl" of the +nighthawk ceases; but away through the woods, down at the creek, the +whippoorwill begins her oft-repeated trinity of notes. A hoot owl +calls from a near-by tree. The pungent smoke of the wood-fire is +sweeter than incense. Venus hangs like a silver lamp in the northwest. +She, too, disappears, but to the east Mars--it is the time of his +opposition--shines in splendor straight down the old road, seemingly +brought very near by the telescopic effect of the dark trees on either +side. Sister stars look down in limpid beauty from a cloudless sky. +All sounds have ceased. A fortnight hence the air will be vibrant with +the calls of the katydids and the grasshoppers, but now the silence is +supreme. It is good for man sometimes to be alone in the silence of +the night--to pass out from the world of little things, temporary +affairs, conditional duties, into the larger life of nature. There may +be some feeling of chagrin at the thought how easily man passes out of +the world and how readily and quickly he is forgotten; but this is of +small moment compared with the sense of self reliance, of sturdy +independence, which belongs to the out-of-doors. By the light of the +stars the non-essentials of life are seen in their true proportions. +There are so many things which have only a commercial value, and even +that is uncertain. Why strive for them or worry about them? In nature +there is a noble indifference to everything save the attainment of +the ideal. Flattery aids not an inch to the growth of a tendril, blame +does not take one tint from the sky. In nature is the joy of living, +of infinite, eternal life. Her eternity is now, today, this hour. Each +of her creatures seeks the largest, fullest, best life possible under +given conditions. The wild raspberries on which the catbirds were +feeding today would have been just as fine had there been no catbird +to eat them or human eye to admire them. Had there been no human ear +to delight, the song of the woodthrush would have been just as sweet. +The choke-cherries crimsoning in the summer sun, the clusters of the +nuts swelling among the leaves of the hickory will strive to attain +perfection, whether or no there are human hands to gather them. They +live in beauty, simplicity and serenity, all-sufficient in themselves +to achieve their ends. + + * * * * * + +Let me live by the old road among the flowers and the trees, the same +old road year after year, yet new with the light of each morning. +Shirking not my share of the world's work, let me gather comfort from +the cool grasses and the restful shade of the old road, hope and +courage from the ever-recurring miracle of the morning and the +springtime, inspiration to strive nobly toward a high ideal of +perfection. They are talking of improving the old road. They will +build pavements on either side, and a trim park in the middle, where +strange shrubs from other states will fight for life with the tall, +rank weeds which always tag the heels of civilization. Then let me +live farther out,--always just beyond the last lamp on the outbound +road, like Omar Khayyam in his strip of herbage, where there are no +improvements, no conventionalities, where life is as large as the +world and where the sweet sanities and intimacies of nature are as +fresh and abundant as the dew of the morning. Rather than the +pavements, let me see the holes of the tiger-beetles in the dirt of +the road, the funnels of the spiders leading down to the roots of the +grass and their cobwebs spread like ladies' veils, each holding dozens +of round raindrops from the morning shower, as a veil might hold a +handful of gleaming jewels. Let me still take note of the coming of +the months by the new flower faces which greet me, each taking +their proper place in the pageant of the year. Old memories of friends +and faces, old joys and hopes and loves flash and fade among the +shrubs and the flowers--here we found the orchis, there we gathered +the gentians, under this oak the friend now sleeping spoke simply of +his faith and hope in a future, sweeter summer, when budding thoughts +and aspirations should blossom into fadeless beauty and highest ideals +be attained. Let me watch the same birds building the same shapely +homes in the old familiar bushes and listen to the old sweet songs, +changeless through the years. If the big thistle is rooted out, where +shall the lark sparrow build her nest? If the dirt road is paved, how +shall the yellow-hammers have their sand-baths in the evening, while +the half grown rabbits frisk around them? Sweet the hours spent in +living along the old road--let my life be simpler, that I may spend +more time in living and less in getting a living. There are so many +things deemed essential that really are not necessary at all. One hour +of new thought is better than them all. Let the days be long enough +for the zest and joy of work, for the companionship of loved ones and +friends, for a little time loafing along the old road when the day's +work is done. Let me hear the sibilant sounds of the thrashers as they +settle to sleep in the thicket. Give me the fragrance of the milkweed +at evening. Let me see the sunset glow on the trunks of the trees, the +ruby tints lingering on the boulder brought down by the glaciers long +ago; the little bats that weave their way beneath the darkening arches +of the leafy roof, while the fire-flies are lighting their lamps in +the nave of the sylvan sanctuary. When the afterglow has faded and the +blur of night has come, give me the old, childlike faith and assurance +that tomorrow's sun shall rise again, and that by-and-by, in the same +sweet way, there shall break the first bright beams of Earth's Eternal +Easter morning. + +[Illustration: "THE FRAGRANCE OF THE MILKWEED AT EVENING" (p. 54)] + + + + +VIII.--BY THE RIVERSIDE IN AUGUST + + +When morning broke, little wisps of mist, like curls of white smoke, +were drifting on the surface of the river as it journeyed through the +canyon of cliffs and trees, dark as the walls of night, toward the +valley where the widening sea of day was slowly changing from gray to +rosy gold. Caught in a cove where the water was still these little +wisps gathered together and crept in folds up the face of the cliff, +as if they fain would climb to the very top where the red cedars ran +like a row of battlements, twisting their stunted trunks over the +brink and hanging their dark foliage in a fringe eighty feet above the +water. But the cliff had for centuries defied all climbers, though it +gave footing here and there to a few friendly plants. At its base the +starry-rayed leaf-cup shed a heavy scent in the stillness of the moist +morning. Higher, at the entrance to a little cave, the aromatic +spikenard, with purple stems and big leaves, stood like a sentinel. +From crannies in the limestone wall the harebell hung, its last +flowers faded, but its foliage still delicately beautiful, like the +tresses of some wraith of the river, clinging to the grim old cliff, +and waiting, like Andromeda, for a Perseus. Tiny blue-green leaves of +the cliff-brake, strung on slender, shining stems, contrasted their +delicate grace with the ruggedness of the old cliff. Still higher, +where a little more moisture trickled down from the wooded ridge +above, the walking fern climbed step by step, patiently pausing to +take new footings by sending out roots from the end of each long, +pointed leaf. Near the top of the cliff, where the red cedars gave +some shade, little communities of bulb-bearing ferns and of polypody +displayed their exquisite fronds, as welcome in a world of beauty as +smiles on a mother's face. Mosses and lichens grew here and there, +staining the face of the old cliff gray, green and yellow. These tiny +ferns and mosses, each drawing the sort of sustenance it needed from +the layers of the limestone, seemed greater than the mountain of rock. +Imposing and spectacular, yet the rock was dead,--the mausoleum for +countless forms of the old life that ceased to be in ages long +forgotten. These fairy forms that sprang from it were the beginnings +of the new life, the better era, the cycle of the future, living, +breathing, almost sentient things, transforming the stubborn stone +into beauty of color and form, into faith that moves mountains and +hope that makes this hour the center of all eternity. For them the +river had been patiently working through the centuries, scoring its +channel just a little deeper, cutting down ever so little each year +the face of the cliff. Eternity stretched backward to the time when +the little stream running between the thin edges of the melting ice +sheets at the top of the high plateau first began to cut the channel +and scarp this mighty cliff; still backward through untold ages to the +time when the lowest layer of limestone in the cliff was only soft +sediment on the shore of a summer sea. Eternity stretched forward, +also, to the time when this perpendicular wall shall have been worn to +a gentle slope, clad with luxuriant verdure, and adorned, perchance, +with fairer flowers than any which earth now knows; still forward +through other untold ages to the time when all earth's fires shall +have cooled; when wind, rain, storm and flood, shall have carried even +the slope to the sea and made this planet a plain like Mars. Now is +the golden age; this hour is the center of eternity. + + * * * * * + +Red tints of the sunrise brightened into yellow, then followed the +white light of an August day. Now the morning mist has gone; woods, +fields and river lie silent in the hot, bright, apathetic morning. +Peace reigns over the smiling fields where Plenty pours from her +golden horn. Here, on the ridge at the top of the cliff, the woods +stretch back half a mile to meet the prairie. Straight down from the +red cedars on the brink of the rock the river softly eddies round a +huge boulder,--the remnant of some cliff tragedy countless years ago. +In the rent of the rock from which it fell a turkey-buzzard often sits +and spreads her huge wings as the boats glide by. Storms have +scalloped pockets in the softer strata; in them still hang the +phoebe's nests, which were filled with young birds in June. Here +and there a swallow's hole may be seen in the rock; earlier in the +season the young birds often peeped out from these holes as if wishing +for strength to come speedily to their wings. Across the river there +is a wide beach where the low water makes ripple-marks in the sand. +Narrow leaves of sand-bar willows fringe the shore, and back of these +are the shining leaves of the oaks. Down the river there are glimpses +of the fields,--yellow stubble where the grain has been cut, serried +ranks of the green and tan where the far-flung guidons of the +tasselled corn stretch away up the slope like a mighty army to +demolish the cloud-castles of refuge on the far horizon where the +mists fled for safety from the pursuing rays of the sun. Overhead the +oak-leaves are motionless, like the comforting, brooding wings of +Peace. It is a time for rest and quiet joy in the beauty and the +fulness of the year. Now, in the grateful shade of some friendly old +oak, is the time to "loaf and invite my soul." + +[Illustration: "GRATEFUL SHADE OF SOME FRIENDLY OLD OAK" (p. 63)] + +[Illustration: "FAT FROM A SUMMER'S FEEDING" (p. 63)] + + * * * * * + +Happy is the man who has made a companion of some fine old tree +standing near his home, type of the tree which he loved in his +boyhood, perchance the very same huge white oak. He learns to go to it +as he would to his friend, to let the old tree share his sorrows and +his joys. Others may be heedless of its charm, ignorant of its power +to help, but for him it always has a welcome and a ministry of beauty. +He learns to visit it often, to talk to it in his thoughts. Some +dreamy summer morning he muses on its history, its service to mankind. +The old tree seems to bend its branches down to listen as he says: + +"I know you, old tree, and I love you. You belong to one of the first +and finest families. The remains of your ancestors have been found in +the eocene and miocene rocks, away, way north of your home at the +present time. They grew in beauty long before man's face was seen upon +the earth. The whole of civilization has rested beneath your ancestral +shade. Long before the Eternal City was founded your ancestors adorned +the seven hills and beautified the grass beneath with the flickering +shadows cast by their sunlit leaves. Some of them which gave shade to +the first habitations in the proud city that from her throne of +beauty ruled the world were still fine and flourishing centuries later +when Pliny sat beneath them in studious contemplation. Others of your +ancestors, old tree, formed the sacred grove of Dodona, where the +oracles spake to minds as yet in darkness. They were accounted fit to +compare in might and majesty with Jove himself, and some of them stood +like sturdy sentinels around his Roman temple. The civic crown which +adorned the brows of Roman heroes as a reward for great deeds done, +was made of green leaves from their branches. In the shadow of your +ancestors Pan played his pipes, Theocritus sat and listened to the +everlasting laughter of the summer sea and his shepherds and goatherds +reclined to engage in their friendly contests of song. Vergil in his +eclogues paid tribute to their beauty and grandeur. They guarded the +Druids' sacred fire and some of them are living yet which gave shelter +to the victorious legions of William the Conqueror when he crossed the +channel more than two thousand years ago. Hearts of oak made the ships +which helped a nation fight her way to the supremacy of the sea and +also the caravels which bore an intrepid discoverer across the weary +waste of waters to the threshold of the new home for all those seeking +life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Some of your ancestors +made the log cabins to shelter the band of pioneers led by the pious +Hooker into the valley of the Connecticut and another preserved the +precious charter until the storm of tyranny had passed. It is your +family, old tree, which has lent itself willingly to the service of +man, in the comfort and stability of his home and in the panels and +carvings which adorn the great cathedrals he has built for the worship +of his Creator and the enrichment of his own soul." + +Still the old tree listens. The heart warms toward it as memory speaks +of its companionship through the years: + +"And I have watched you, old tree, in storm and in sunshine; in the +early winter when the soft snow stuck fast to your rugged old trunk +and your branches and twigs and made you a picture of purity; and in +the later winter when the fierce storms wrestled in vain with your +sinewy limbs. While the other trees of the forest were tossing hither +and thither, bent and broken by the blast, you stood in calm poise and +dignity, nodding and swaying towards me as if to show me how to +withstand adversity. And I have watched your pendulous blossoms daily +grow more beautiful among the miracles of early May when the sunshine +of the flower-spangled days made you a vision of tender green and +gold. I have seen your tiny leaves creep out of their protecting +bud-scales in the springtime, their upper surfaces touched with a pink +more lovely than that on the cheek of a child, while below they were +clothed with a silvery softness more delicately fair than the coverlid +in the cradle of a king. I have watched them develop into full-grown +leaves with lobes as rounded and finely formed as the tips of ladies' +fingers and I have noted how well the mass of your foliage has +protected your feathered friends and their naked nestlings from the +peltings of the hail, the drenchings of the rain and the scorching of +the summer sun. I have gloried in the grateful shade you gave alike to +happy children in their play and to tired parents weary and worn with +the work and the worry of the world; and it was then, old tree, that +you taught me to be sympathetic and hospitable. And I have watched +your fruit ripen and fall, to be eagerly seized by the wild folk of +the woodland and stored, some of it in the holes of your own trunk, +for use during the long winter. You taught me to be generous and they +gave me lessons in forethought and frugality. Later in the autumn I +have watched your green leaves take on a wondrous wine-red beauty, as +the splendor of a soul sometimes shines most vividly in the hour +before it is called home; and they taught me not to grieve or to +murmur because death must come to us all. In the winter I have seen +the squirrel digging beneath the snow to find the acorns he had +planted in the fall. He didn't find them all; some of them came up in +the springtime as tiny trees and spoke to me of the life that knows no +end." + + * * * * * + +Now a woodchuck, fat from a summer's feeding, climbs heavily to a tree +stump and seats himself to pass the morning in his favorite avocation +of doing nothing. He worked during the night or the very early +morning, for fresh dirt lay at the entrance to his hole. Evidently he +had been enlarging it for the winter. Like a Plato at his philosophies +he sits now, slowly moving his head from side to side, as if steeping +his senses in the beauty of the world around him so that all the +dreams of his long winter sleep shall be pleasant. A persistent fly, a +slap, and the woodchuck hears. He turns that dark gray, solemn looking +face, and asks mutely, reproachfully, perhaps resentfully, why his +reverie has been disturbed. Then he hastily scurries to his burrow and +he will not again appear though I sit here all day. + +[Illustration: "HE TURNS THAT SOLEMN FACE" (p. 71)] + +From a hole in the side of a fallen log the chipmunk peeps warily, +comes out quickly, but whisks back again in fancied fright. Soon he +returns and sits on the log awhile, barking his bird-like "chip, +chip," and flirting his tail with each note. Then he sets about +gathering the old oak leaves which were piled near the log by the +winds last March and have lain undisturbed through the summer. +Grabbing two or three in his mouth, he pushes them into his pouches +with his paws and is gone into his hole like a flash. The hole in the +log is the entrance to the long passageway which goes down +perpendicularly for three feet, and then gradually ascends, until at a +distance of eight feet it is about a foot below the surface of the +ground. Here the chipmunk will pass the cold days of winter, snugly +sleeping in his leafy bed which he is now preparing, with a store of +food nearby to use in wakeful spells of warm weather and in the lean +days next spring after he has fairly roused himself from lethargy. For +half an hour he comes and goes, carrying two or three, even four +leaves at a time. Then he comes a little farther away from the log, +suddenly looks up and sees me sitting. He stops short, breathes +quickly, his little sides tremble; I take out an old envelope and +write his description, like this: + +"Size, about half way between a mouse and a rat, five or six inches +long, with a tail perhaps five inches more, about as big around as a +man's thumb, bushy, but of even size the whole length, top of head +dark gray, yellowish circles about the shining black eyes; short, +erect ears; light gray underneath, with whitish legs; a narrow +black stripe down the middle of the back, then on either side, a +stripe of reddish gray; then a stripe of black, next a stripe of +yellow, then black again and after that, reddish fox color down to the +whitish under-parts." + +At length the chipmunk makes a dash for the thicket ten feet away and +his "chip, chip," rings out excitedly as he reaches the friendly +shelter. + + * * * * * + +The chipmunk is not the only woods creature preparing for winter +during the hottest days of August. For more than a week the flying +squirrel has been making the small mossy cup acorns rain down on the +roof of the bungalow. He begins on them when they are scarcely acorns, +merely green cups with a dot at the top. But he knows. He bites them +in two, and deftly extracts the acorn, which is in the milky state, +scarcely as large as a pea. He does it in the darkness, but with +amazing rapidity. Speeding from twig to twig, from one cluster of +acorns to another, he cuts the cups in two and extracts the meat so +fast that the pieces rain down on the roof. When he is working at top +speed, he will probably average twenty acorns a minute. In the morning +the roof of the porch is covered with pieces of the husks. + +For half an hour after sunset he keeps up this fast speed. Apparently +he is getting supper after his long sleep through the day. At the end +of half an hour he begins to work more leisurely. The pieces fall on +the roof every now and then. Possibly he is taking the sweetmeats to +his hole, high up in a tree. Through the night there is the +intermittent sound of his labor. Sometimes, towards morning, he drops +in for a visit,--literally drops in, by way of the chimney and the +open fireplace. He knows no fear. Going to the kitchen, he helps +himself to the doughnut left on the table for him. If it is a whole +one, he nibbles all around it. If only half a one he carries it away. +You may close the kitchen door and catch him with your bare hands. He +will neither squeal nor bite. But he makes a poor pet, because he +sleeps in the daytime and works in the darkness. He strongly dislikes +the light. If put into a box he backs up into the darkest corner, +brings his beautiful flat tail between his four legs and up over his +nose and his eyes. Rolled up lengthwise in this ball he spends the +day; but when evening comes he is active enough. If kept for any +length of time he makes a very docile pet and will beg permission to +sleep in your pocket. But it is better to give him his freedom, and +see him scamper up one tree and "fly" to another. As he springs he +spreads out the whitish membranes along each side, holds his flat tail +rigid, quivering. Thus he goes down, parachute fashion, on an inclined +plane. Just before he gets to the tree trunk which is his objective +point, he makes momentum aid his muscles in the accomplishment of an +upward curve. + + * * * * * + +Crickets and katydids droned and fiddled all night, and when the +katydids quit at daybreak, other grasshoppers and cicadas were ready +to take their places in the screechy orchestra. Night and day they +shrill their ceaseless music. It is all masculine love music, as much +an expression of their tender feelings towards listening maidens, as +the old troubadour songs to fair ladies or as the exquisite song of +the rose-breasted grosbeak is to his brown-garbed spouse in May and +June. Late in July it began with the short rasps and screeches of tiny +hoppers flitting in the grass; the katydid began to tune up on the +evening of July 29. Then the long-legged conductor waved his baton and +the orchestra was off. It started moderato, but quickly increased to +an allegro, and sometimes it is almost presto. For the first two weeks +in August new fiddlers were constantly being added, and now there are +enough to fill every band stand all through the woods. The noise at +night is almost ear-splitting. The old preacher was right about it. +There are times when the grasshopper is a burden. At the hour of +sunset the cicada winds his rattle most joyously, subsiding into +silence as darkness comes and making way for the katydid. + +The screechy orchestra is a poor substitute for the grand birds' +concerts of June and July. For the birds, August is a month of +silence. Except for an occasional solo, nearly all the birds are +silent, moulting and moping in the thickets. If you steal into the +thicket you may find the thrushes and the thrashers feeding on the +ground. Once in a while one of them shows himself in the morning or +the evening, but not often. Nesting done, the brown thrasher ceased +his long and brilliant solos from the treetops after the first week of +July. Next week the catbird's song was heard for the last time. +Because the first nest of the wood thrush was robbed by the blue-jays, +a second nest was built. This family was safely reared, and the wood +thrush sang until the third week in July, when one clear sunset night, +the sky all aglow with banners of golden red, he sang his farewell +solo. For seven weeks the Maryland yellow throat sang just at the turn +of the old woods road, where his mate had her nest in a low bush. As +the babies waxed large his song waned, and he was not heard during the +last week in July, nor since. Still the dickcissel, the lark sparrow +and the indigo bunting continued their trio. Evidently their babies +were somewhere over in the field nearby, a field that was corn last +year, and now is grown up thickly with smartweed. August came with a +rush of the mercury above the ninety mark, and there it has stayed. A +week of it was enough for this trio. They ceased their concert work, +but now and then the lark sparrow pipes up a feeble imitation of his +sweet notes in July. Like the song sparrow, he cannot wholly refrain +from expressing his satisfaction in being alive. Many men and women +are just like that. The vireos also ceased singing at the end of the +first week in August, but sometimes the red-eye gives a little +preachment from his leafy pulpits in the woods. Latest among the +singers are the chewinks, the wood pewees, the field sparrows, and, of +course, the goldfinches and the cuckoos. The young chewinks left their +nests in the pasture on the third, and the chewink's feelings +expressed themselves in song for two weeks after that. He out-sang the +field sparrows, whose young were hatched August third, and left their +nest on the twelfth. Apparently the field sparrow stopped singing and +went to work providing for his family of three. But the chewink was +not to be sobered so quickly. Why not sing with the work? The days are +long enough, happy enough, for both. Even now he gives occasional +bursts of song. Evidently this is the theory of the tanager also, for +he sang all through July, and here in mid-August his trumpet tones +occasionally ring through the leafy silences of the woods. The young +wood pewees which left their nests on the eleventh are now able to +shift for themselves; but the parents have much the same song as they +had when the three eggs lay in the nest, saddled to the burr-oak +bough. Still, through the peaceful morning air comes the loud, clear, +cheery call of the Bob White--a note that has in it health and vigor +for the healing of many a tired heart. As for the cuckoo, well, his +mate is guarding those bluish-green eggs in the apology for a nest +built in the lower branches of a young black-oak; they will not be +hatched until the very last of the month. He does his best to be +cheerful and to make a joyful sound. "Kut-Kut-Kut," and +"Kow-Kow-Kow"--you may often hear the latter sound in the middle of +the night. Does he try to let his lady dear know that he is near her +through the darkness, or is he happily singing in his dreams? + +Perched on a mullen spike, a goldfinch is singing to his mate, whose +nest is in a sapling not far away. His jet black wings fold over his +yellow back, shaping it into a pointed shield of gold. He is so happy +and so fond that he can not bear long to remain out of her sight. Now +he sings a tender serenade, then his joy rises to ecstasy. He takes +wings and floats up and down the imaginary waves, circling higher and +higher, his sweet notes growing more rapturous until finally they +reach their climax as he goes abruptly skyward. Then his fluttering +wings close, and he drops from a height of perhaps forty or fifty +feet, to alight again on his original perch and resume his tender +serenade, singing now in a sweet, dreamy way, sounding just like a +ripple of moonlit water looks. This love-song of the goldfinch is the +climax of the summer's bird-song. If there were none other, the summer +would be worth while. + +Dreamily sitting on a bare twig, the wood pewee is content. She has +raised her family, they are now able to get their own food. Though she +is worn and wasted since the spring, and may easily be told from her +husband, because he is handsome and well-groomed, yet is she content +to sit and wait for the food to come her way. Now she circles from her +perch and returns. Watching her catch an insect on the way, I hear the +sharp snap of her bill, as if two pebbles had been smartly struck +together. + + * * * * * + +Fanning the air with gauzy wings, the honey bee comes for a feast on +the flowers of the figwort. Visiting every open blossom, he loads up +with the honey and departs in a line for his hive. Bye-and-bye a +humble-bee wanders along, quickly finding that another has drained the +blossoms of their sweets. He passes on undismayed; there are more +flowers. Over by the wire fence the tick-trefoil, desmodium, is in its +glory. Its lower petal stands out like a doorstep, and on it the +humble-bee alights. Two little yellow spots, bordered with deep red, +show him where lies the nectar. Here he thrusts his head, forcing open +the wing petals from the standard. Instantly the keel snaps down as if +a steel spring had been released. The bee is dusted with pollen, which +he carries with him to fertilize another flower. How did the flower +learn to fashion that mechanism, to construct those highly colored +nectar-guides? How many centuries of accumulated intelligence or +instinct,--call it what the scientists please,--are there behind that +action of the bee, thrusting his head just where those nectar-guides +are placed? Is the bee more sentient than the flower? Or, is the +flower which provided the nectar and placed the nectar-guides just at +the right place on the bright blossoms, as special allurements for the +senses of the bee, the more to be admired for its intelligence? One by +one the bee opens the flowers, which were so fresh and beautiful at +sunrise. When he goes to his nest in the grass at evening, they will +all have been drained of their nectar, and the petals will be wilted +by the sun. But they have achieved their object, the ovules have been +fertilized. Tomorrow morning there will be many bright, new blossoms, +their nectar crying to the bees, like the voice in Omar Khayyam's +tavern to those outside the door: + + _"When all the temple is prepared within, + Why lags the drowsy worshiper outside?"_ + +Now there comes sidling, gliding along the barbed wire fence, the +Baltimore oriole, always a charming fellow because of his flaming +plumage, which has won for him the name of the golden robin +and firebird. He walks along the wire fence in a gliding, +one-leg-at-a-time fashion, as he often does on the twig of a tree. His +head is down, he is on the lookout for caterpillars. Now he reaches +the tick-trefoil, and nips out some stamens from its purple blossoms, +which he eats with relish. + + * * * * * + +The work of the year will soon be done. Most of the trees have +completed the growth for the year and nothing remains but to complete +the filling of the buds which already have formed for next year. Pull +down a twig of the white-oak and you find a cluster of terminal buds +at the end, marking the close of this year's growth, each of them +containing the nucleus of next year's life. In the axils of the leaves +on the elm are the little jeweled buds which will be brown and dull +all winter, but will shine like garnets when the springtime comes. The +fat, green buds on the linden are yellowing now, and next they are to +be tinted into the ruby red which is so attractive in the winter +months when contrasted with the snow. + +As the sun nears the zenith the heat waves on the ridges, and across +the cornfields seem to have a rhythmic motion, as if they are +manifestations of the great throbbing pulse-beat of nature, working at +almost feverish haste to ripen her fruits and prepare for the winter +in the few weeks of summer that yet remain. And now the sunshine has a +new and deeper meaning. If we have ever complained of it, we hasten to +pray pardon. Not only in the cornfields, where the milky ears are fast +filling, but all over upland and lowland, in woods and fields and +meadows, Nature is busy making and storing starch and sugar, protein +and albumen, that the earth and all that therein is may have cause to +rejoice in the fullness of the year. Above the ground she stores it in +drupe and pome and berry, nut and nutlet and achene, and below the +ground in rootstock and rhizome, corm and tuber, pumping them full +with strokes quick and strong in these grand climacteric days of the +summer. All the water which seemed so useless in April, all the rain +which seemed so superfluous and so dreary in May and June, has been +used. Not a drop of it was wasted. Its office was to feed life, to +dissolve the substances in the rocks and the soils which the plants +needed, to be mixed with the sunshine in the manufacture of food for +the present and for the future. Nor is the heat nor the light wasted. +Both are stored in the trunks of the trees, and when in the winter the +back log sends out its steady heat and the foresticks their cheerful +blaze, the old tree will give back, measure for measure, the light and +heat it has stored through the years. Let us rejoice in the fervent +heat and the grand work of the August days. So a man works as he +approaches his ideals. Feebly at first he begins. Winds of adversity +buffet him, cold disdain would freeze his ambition, hot scorn would +shrivel his soul. Still he perseveres, striving towards his ideal, +firmly rooted in faith and his heart ever open for the beauty and the +sunshine of the world. In periods of storm and cloud, his heart, like +the sun, makes its own warmth and splendor, knowing that the season +of its strength shall come. When he seems to be growing nearer his +ideal his fervor is at August heat; for him there is no burden in the +heat of the day; tirelessly, joyously, he strives, achieves, attains. +Thus he does his share of the work of the world and adds his mite to +the heritage of its future. + + * * * * * + +The plants of the woodlands seem strangely unfamiliar since the +springtime. If you have not called upon them during these months that +have fled so swiftly you will almost feel the need of being introduced +to them again. Some of them, such as the Dutchman's breeches and the +bluebell, have gone, like the beautiful children who died when life +was young. Others have grown away from you, like the children you used +to know in the days gone by, so strangely altered now. The little +uvularia, whose leaves were so soft and silky in May and whose blossom +drooped so prettily, like a golden bell, is tall, and branched now, +and its leaves are stiff and papery. Its curious, triangular, +leathery pods have lifted their lids at the top and discharged +their bony seeds. The blood-root, the hepatica, and the wild ginger +are showing big and healthy leaves, but the few lady slippers, here +and there, have faded almost beyond recognition. + +When the summer shower patters down among the leaves the music of the +insect orchestra ceases and the performers shield their instruments +with their wings. It passes and gleams of sunshine make jewels of the +raindrops. Then a little breeze brings the aroma of the blossoming +bergamot, wild mint, basil and catnip, filling the air with a spicy +fragrance. The insects tune up; soon the orchestra is at it again. +White cumulus clouds appear, floating lazily in the azure, reflected +by the river below. They chase the sunlight across the amber stubble +of the oat-fields and weave huge pictures which flash and fade among +the swaying tassels of the corn. + +[Illustration: "IN PLACID PONDS" (p. 92)] + +And oh, the color-splendor of these August days! Here at the top of +the cliff, the orange-flowered milkweed still flames in beauty, +mingled with the pink and lavender bergamot and the varied yellows of +the sunflowers and the rosin weeds. Down nearer the water's edge where +the shelves of the cliff are layered with soil, the virgin's bower +twines clusters of creamy white. On the grassy shore where the river +begins to leave the rocks the brilliant blue lobelia is breaking into +blossom, contrasted with the bright lemon yellow of the helenium. +Masses of pink light up shady places where the false dragonhead grows, +and the jewel weeds are thickly hung with pendant blossoms of orange +and pale yellow. The river winds along the low shores and reedy +shallows, sometimes partly losing itself in placid ponds, gay with the +crimson and green and blue of the dragon-flies, and fringed by dark +green reeds and rushes from which Pan might well have made his pipes +to charm the gods, and the Naiads of the sacred fount. Onward it goes, +now passing by a sloping bank which the gray-leaved golden rod has +covered with a wealth of golden glory; for this low-growing golden rod +which blossoms so early, is the most brilliantly and richly golden of +them all. + +[Illustration: "STILL THE RIVER BECKONS ONWARD" (p. 93)] + +Great fluffy masses of pink purple at the top of large-leaved stems +are the blossoms of the Joe Pye Weed, and smaller clusters of royal +purple in the grassy places are the efflorescence of the iron weed. A +stretch of grassy ground, which slopes down to the river's brink, is +gemmed with the thick purple clusters of the milkwort, which shines +among the grass as the early blossoms of the clover used to do when +the summer was young. Here and there the little bag-like blossoms of +the gerardia, or foxglove, are opening among the stems of the fading +grass, and the white blossoms of the marsh bellflower, the midget +member of the campanula family, are apparently as fresh and numerous +as they were in early July. Water horehound has whitish whorls of tiny +blossoms and prettily cut leaves, which are as interesting as the +flowers. And still the river beckons onward, murmuring that the quest +of the flower-lover is not yet done and that the prize awaits the +victor who presses on to the swamp around the bend where the birches +hang drooping branches over quiet, fish-full pools. The prize is worth +the extra half-mile. It is the gorgeous flower of late summer, a fit +symbol of August, the queen blossom of a queenly month, the brilliant +red lobelia, or cardinal flower. There is no flower in the year so +full of vivid color. Sometimes, but only very rarely, the purple +torches of the exquisite little fringed orchis (habenaria psychodes) +lights up a swampy place beneath the trees and sheds its delicate +fragrance as a welcome to the bees. + + * * * * * + +The life of an August day, like all life, comes too quickly to a +close. In the morning of a day, of a summer, or of a life, there seems +so much ahead; so many friends to help and cheer, so much beauty to +behold, so many pleasant roads to roam, so much to accomplish, and so +many treasures to gather by the way. But when the days are growing +shorter and the twilight falls, perhaps it is enough if we can feel +that we have at the best but faithful failures; perhaps enough if we +have forgotten the dust and the rocks and the mire, and have treasured +only the memories of the beauty and the music and the joy which was +ours by the way; surely enough if we can look forward happily and +peacefully to the west where + + _The sky is aglow with colors untold, + With a triumph of crimson and opal and gold, + And wavering curtains woven of fire + Are hung o'er the portals of Day's desire. + The sun goes to rest in his western halls + And over the world, the twilight falls._ + +And then the glory fades to gray and beautiful Venus smiles at us just +over the tops of the trees. Little is heard save the occasional note +of the whip-poor-will and the constant reminder from the katydid that +it is not far to frost. But the river ripples softly around the rocks +and a cool air stirs in the trees above, exorcising all mournful +spirits. The harvest moon is rising and the white light lies sleeping, +dreaming, on trees and cliff and river. On such a night pleading Pan +wooed his coy nymph with the promise: + + _And then I'll tell you tales that no one knows + Of what the trees talk in the summer nights; + When far above you hear them murmuring, + As they sway whispering to the lifting breeze._ + + + + +IX.--THE PASSING OF SUMMER + + +When the wild plums ripen in the thicket by the creek and the grapes +are purpling in the kisses of the sun; when even the sunlight itself +grows mellow and the landscape wears a dreamy haze, colored like the +bloom on a plum, as if the year, too, had reached perfect ripeness; +then it is mid-September and Iowa begins a season of loveliness which +shall hardly be excelled anywhere on earth. + +Young birds imitate the spring songs of their parents in a faint, +wistful, reminiscent way, some of those hatched early in the year +rising almost to full song, as in the case of the meadow larks whose +music rings through the meadows and makes the balmy afternoons seem +like those of early May. The wild strawberry blossoms again; the +violet and some of the other spring flowers. But the signs of the +passing of the summer are everywhere in evidence. Dense, white morning +mists--the September mists--lie in the valleys and yield but slowly +to the shafts of the rising sun. Flocks of feathered voyagers are +shaping their course toward the south. Gold and crimson leaves grow +more numerous along the lanes and in the woods. Antares, Altair and +Vega, with the summer constellations, are passing farther towards the +west, while before bedtime Fomalhaut may be seen at the mouth of the +Southern Fish in the southeast and the creamy white Capella is leading +up Auriga in the northeast. Between them, just over the eastern rim of +the world, appear the Pleiades, their "sweet influences" in keeping +with the season. The summer is passing, but not in sadness. Some of +the greatest of its glories are reserved for these last days. + + * * * * * + +Now the cicada, forgetting to give his winding salute at sundown, has +almost dropped out of the insect orchestra and the katydid, too, is +heard less often. The rest of the screeching musicians vary the volume +and the speed of their music in approximate ratio to the temperature. +In the warm evening they saw and rub away at presto time as if they +were determined to get to the end of the selection before the curtain +goes up for the moonlight scene; but they slacken to moderato when the +nights grow cooler, slower, always slower, and fainter as the chill +air creeps through the woods. When the north wind filters coldly +through the trees their music thins and dims till it sounds pathetic +as the tick of a tall clock in a lonely house at night. But it warms +up again with the sunshine next day, keeping time and tune with the +varying moods of the final days of the summer. When a dreamy, hazy day +is followed by a mellow night and little patches of white moonlight +lie dreaming beneath the trees, the crickets have a lullaby that comes +in rhythmic beats, as if they watched the moonlight breathe and rocked +the world to sleep. + + * * * * * + +Comforting and soothing as the touch of a loved hand on a fevered brow +come the first cooling breezes of September after the fierce white +heat of August. Sweeter than music is the sound of the wind, as it +passes through the woods, welcomed by millions of waving branches and +dancing leaves. It brings the call of the quail, the scream of the +jay, the bark of the squirrel, the crack of the hunter's gun, the +first notes of the returning bluebirds, the clean, keen scent of the +earth after rain, the courage and joy of life, motion, action. Seen +from the top of a cliff the acres of foliage spread out in the creek +valley beneath has a motion suggesting the waves of the sea, now +flowing in green billows before the wind, now whipped into spray at +the shore of the creek where the willows show the white sides of their +leaves. + +In the fields the far-flung banners of the corn take on ripening tints +and begin to rustle drily in the breeze. Golden ears, wrapped in +tobacco-brown silk, are pushing from tanned and purplish husks. +Newly-plowed fields were made possible by the rains which started the +grass growing in the stubble, changing the color from amber to emerald +and wrought a miracle of verdure in the pastures which August had +baked brown. Here and there the aftermath of red clover has developed +a field of new blossoms,--a little lake of pink where sunshine plays +with shadow and sturdy humble bees spend the days in ecstasy. + + * * * * * + +Summer puts on her last bright robes for the final floral review +before she is borne by the birds down the valley to set up her court +in the southland. Tall and soldierly, this last gay army of the +flowers passes in review before her. Blazing stars in pink and purple, +tall and picturesque, with long rows of brilliant buttons; regiments +of asters in blue and white and purple; rattle-snake root with big and +quaintly slashed leaves and hundreds of tassels in delicate shades of +lilac, purple and white; swamp sunflowers in dazzling yellow, camped +in millions along the creek bottom to make it more glorious than the +historical pageant of the Field of the Cloth of Gold; plumy battalions +of golden-rod, marshalled by the sun along every country lane; +companies of tall, saw-leaved sunflowers with golden petals and darker +disks, deployed along the fences and seen at their best in the +twilight when they look like friendly faces with beaming eyes; as I +write them so they march across the land and bow farewell to summer. +There is no floral spectacle in all the land so fine as this march of +the composites over the Iowa prairies and fields in September. That is +the judgment of those who have travelled and observed. In the swamps +and along the ditches the blue lobelias flourish and the companies of +blue gentians are bringing up the rear to end the floral review, +begging the summer to wait until they pass by. + +The little creek near which I live rises in a little swale between two +rolling ridges of the pasture. When it leaves the pasture only a +narrow box culvert is necessary to take it across the road, but before +it reaches the river, twenty miles away, a double-spanned bridge is +required to carry the road over it. In the pasture where it rises it +fails to furnish enough water for the cattle, but half way along its +course it sometimes washes out bridges in the springtime and farther +down it often floods the lowlands. Slipping silently among the feet of +the long grasses in the meadows it is scarcely seen at first; but +by-and-by it attains the dignity of a stream, winding through meadows +and bordering orchards and grain-fields. Now the willows begin to +mark its course, then elms and oaks and walnuts with little thickets +of panicled dogwood and wild plum, where the wild grape and the +bittersweet display their fruit and the wild duck sometimes makes her +nest. + +[Illustration: "PAUSING IN EACH DEEP POOL TO COOL AND REFRESH ITSELF" +(p. 109)] + +Sometimes the creek almost sinks from sight in a bed of hot sand; it +leaves only a narrow runlet of water idling along the foot of the high +bank and pausing in each deep pool at the feet of the overhanging +trees to cool and refresh itself for its onward journey. To these +quiet pools goes the fisherman with his minnow seine and a stick. He +knows that in the water among the roots of the old tree lie shiners +and soap minnows, creek chubs and soft-shelled "crawdads," the kind +that make good bait for the black bass down in the river. He pokes +around vigorously with his stick and sends them scurrying into his +short seine. Hither also go the school-boy fishermen, with a willow +pole and one gallus apiece, seeking to entice the patriarchal chub, +the shiner and the stone-roller. From this point down, the young +anglers are strung along the banks. Some try their luck for sunfish +by the piles of loose rock and boulders, and some would tempt the +bullheads from siestas in the mud. + +Above the mill-dam the water backs up to form a peaceful pond which +mirrors the trees and the rushes and cat-tails above it and sleeps +beneath the thicket of willows where the redwings flock in the +evenings. Broad leaves of the arrow-head and pickerel-weed give +shelter to the coot, bobbing her head and neck as she makes nervous +journeys through the water, sometimes scratching a long streak across +its mirror-like surface as she uses both feet and wings in her haste +to escape from the lone pedestrian. At sundown the sandhill crane may +sometimes be surprised, standing like a silhouette by the shore of a +grassy island. The awkward, wary bittern and the still more vigilant +least bittern are familiar residents here. + +Below the dam the creek winds at will through a peaceful valley, +appropriating to itself an ever widening stretch from the farm lands. +Sometimes it hastens down a pebbly speedway, then slackens its pace +and wanders off from its course until suddenly it seems to grow +alarmed, whips around a bend and comes hurrying back. Sometimes its +level flood-plain is a quarter mile wide, bounded on either side by +steep timbered hills which stretch on and on down the valley until the +sky receives them in a glory of blue haze. Sometimes the creek has cut +its way straight down the face of a high rock cliff on one side, while +on the other side is a level meadow with bushy-margined ponds. In +places the water of the creek lies asleep in a dream of sunshine, but +further on it ripples and gurgles over a bouldered bed, walled in by +rocky slopes. These are kept moist by water trickling down from hidden +springs among the roots of the shrubs and vines, ferns and mosses +which soften the grim limestone into beauty of form and color. + +[Illustration: "LIES ASLEEP IN A DREAM OF SUNSHINE" (p. 111)] + +In the cool days of September, when walking is a fine art, I love to +accompany the lower portion of the old creek down to the river, +following the little path made by farmer boys and fishermen. The two +posts at the fence by the roadside, set just far enough apart for a +man to squeeze himself through, are the gates to a land elysian. When +I pass through them I am a thousand miles from the city with its toil +and pain, its strife and sorrow. Worldly cares drop from my back as I +stand upon the brink of this creek and watch the water spreading +itself out over the white sand. Time and distance lose their force as +factors in my life. I have found and entered the lost lands of +Theocritus. Beneath this black ash, touched here and there with the +purple wistfulness of the passing year, Pan might have sat to play his +pipes, the Cyclops might have pleaded with the graceful Galatea. This +haze which hangs over the white oak grove, for aught I know, may be +the incense from Druid fires. Along this valley Chaucer's Immortals +may have gone a pilgriming, and in this bosky wood Robin Hood may have +trained his band. The legend that from this cliff an Indian lover on +his favorite pony once leaped to the creek a hundred feet below and a +mighty funeral ceremony was held at the Indian mound a little farther +down the valley seems to be attested both by the cliff and the mound. +Before I have gone very far I am unconcernedly conscious that I +have not the slightest idea in which direction lies the nearest road +home, nor how far I have come. But I know that somewhere down the +lavender-veiled valley the creek and myself shall reach the river at +last and all will be well. There are so many beautiful things to see +on the way that I would not hasten if I could. Life and the future is +much like that. + + * * * * * + +There is a pleasant constancy in the companionship of a creek. It is +always at home when I call, always seems to wear a smile of welcome, +always has something new to offer in the way of entertainment. And it +is changeless through the years. If I were to return some September +afternoon after an absence of half a lifetime I should expect to see a +green heron fly up the creek when I reached this particular bend and +to find the kingfisher in his accustomed place on the bare branch of +this patriarchal oak. At the next bend, where the current has cut the +bank straight down I should look for the rows of holes made by the +little colony of bank swallows. I should steal around the sharp bend +by the old willow to see a little sandpiper on the boulder in +mid-stream as of old. On a certain high grassy knoll I should find the +woodchuck sunning himself and he would run towards his same old hole +beneath the basswood tree, just as he does today. On the swampy edge +of the stream I should find the perennial blossoms of this same +corymbed rattle-snake root and its interesting spear-shaped leaves +reflected in the water. From the dry bank just at the end of this +ledge of rock my nostrils would catch the resinous odor of the +creamy-flowered kuhnia and a more subtle aroma from the +pearly-blossomed everlasting. The horse in the pasture would again +come up and rub his nose in my hand and the cattle beneath the trees +would make the same picture as in the days of long ago. Civilization +can hardly spoil the creek. The spring freshets obliterate attempts at +road-making and the steep hills protect it from encroachment and +preserve its independence and wild beauty. + +[Illustration: "CATTLE BENEATH THE TREES WOULD MAKE THE SAME PICTURE" +(p. 116)] + + * * * * * + +It is worth while to spend a little time with the friendly golden-rod +which spreads all over upland and lowland almost as generous as the +sunshine. To many of us one stalk of golden-rod looks much like +another, but a very little study will readily enable us to distinguish +between the different species and will add wonderfully to its interest +and charm. There is the tall, smooth stemmed golden-rod, with saw +toothed leaves, except near the base and ample pyramids of +medium-sized clusters of blossoms; this is the solidago serotina, or +late golden-rod. A similar golden-rod, but with hairy stems and +smaller flower clusters is the solidago Canadensis or Canada +golden-rod. Both these grow in the bottoms anywhere near the creek. +Along the moist clay banks the elm-leaved golden-rod shows its tall +stem with the leaves which give the plant its distinctive name, +surmounted by several threadlike spreading branches strung with little +bits of leaves and clusters of yellow blossoms at the ends, as if the +slender, curving, green branches had been dipped in gold dust. On the +same slopes may usually be found the zig-zag or broad-leaved +golden-rod, with leaves as broad as the palm of a lady's hand and +little wand-like clusters of blossoms, several of them from the axil +of each leaf. This plant is called the zig-zag golden-rod because its +stem often turns first one way and then the other, as if it hadn't +made up its mind which way to grow. Higher up on the dry rocky banks +is the gray or field golden-rod, whose small leaves are covered with +grayish down and whose rather short stem is topped by a flattish +pyramid of brilliant yellow flowers. This is one of the early +golden-rods, but it lasts well into the fall. Another handsome species +which is fairly common is the solidago rigida, or hard-leaved +golden-rod, whose leaves are thick, rough and fairly broad, the lower +ones sometimes a foot long, and whose flower clusters form a broad +flat top. Each cluster is very large, containing twenty-five or thirty +flowers if you care to pull one to pieces and count them. One stem +will have several hundred of these flower clusters and each cluster +contains twenty-five flowers on an average, a fine example of Nature's +wealth and bounty. Perhaps the most handsome species of all, here in +Iowa, is the solidago speciosa, or the showy golden-rod, which +sometimes grows five, six or seven feet high in rich soil, with a +stout, smooth stem and big, smooth leaves, the lower ones broadly oval +and sometimes from four to ten inches long and one to four inches +wide. The Missouri golden-rod is a slender and dainty species with +long, narrow leaves, their margins very rough, as you may tell by +drawing your fingers along them. + +There are about eighty-five different species of golden-rod in the +United States, but the task of naming them all that grow in one +locality is not difficult for the nature-lover. The above list is +practically all that grow hereabouts. And it is so with the asters. +There are about two hundred fifty species of asters, and most of them +are found in North America. But usually a dozen or fifteen only are to +be found in the average locality. Here, among others, may be found the +beautiful aster Novae-Anglia, or New England aster with blue or +rose-colored rays and a yellow center, the blossoms fluffy and large, +often fully two inches across. In some parts of the east it is called +"Farewell to Summer," but it may usually be found in the latter part +of August. This year it was in full bloom as early as August 21. +Another beautiful aster to be found on prairies and dry banks is the +aster sericeus, or silvery aster, with silvery-white silky leaves and +large, violet blue heads, the rays sometimes two-thirds of an inch +long. One of the earliest and most common of the asters is the aster +sagittifolius, or arrow-leaved aster, with white or pale blue flowers, +and its companion, the heart-leaved aster. More beautiful is the +lovely smooth or blue aster, the aster laevis, with clasping, oblong +tapering leaves and sky-blue heads, sometimes violet, fully an inch +across. The aster multiflorus, or dense flowered aster, is bushy with +small rigid, crowded leaves, and a multitude of small heads crowded on +the spreading branches, the rays generally white like big balls of +snow. The aster salicifolius has a slender stem much branched above, +long and narrow leaves, with violet, violet-purple or rarely white +rays, and aster prenanthoides or crooked stem aster, may be told by +its zigzag stem, its oblong, saw-toothed leaves and its violet rays. +Two other beautiful species found hereabouts are the aster azureus, +which blooms from August until after frost, with a slender but stiff +and roughish stem, and many bright violet-blue flowers with short +rays; and the aster Shortii, or Short's aster, which is found on banks +and along the edges of woods and does not usually bloom until +September. It has a slender stem and thickish leaves, heart-shaped at +the base; its rays number from ten to fifteen and are usually bright +blue, sometimes violet blue. + + * * * * * + +September brings us the first and one of the most beautiful of the +gentians, the white gentian. We are accustomed to think of the +gentians as brilliantly blue, but the first one to adorn the waste +places where the horses could not take the mower, is this white +gentian. It is one of the plants which make a magnificent appearance +in a tall, thin-stemmed vase, in your library. You need but one and if +you chance to find a patch you may take a plant without any +compunction of conscience, for they are usually numerous. At the top +of the smooth stem are four leaves with heart-shaped bases, gradually +tapering to points at the ends. These four pale green leaves cross +each other after the manner of a St. Andrew's Cross. Just where the +four leaves are thus joined to the stem is a cluster of some six, +eight, ten or even more, large, yellowish white, or greenish white +blossoms. Perhaps at the next set of leaves, about four inches down +the stem, there will be several other blossoms, in the axils. In the +swamps and bogs the barrel-shaped blossoms of the closed gentians are +growing larger day by day and by the twentieth of the month the +fringed gentian, known only to a favored few, here in Iowa, will show +the first of its blossoms. + + * * * * * + +In these last days of the summer there comes a grateful sense of the +ripeness which crowns the year. Nothing in nature has hid its talent +in a napkin. Every tree and shrub and herb has something to show in +return for the privilege of having lived and worked in a world of +beauty. Catbirds on the eve of their departure for the southland are +feasting on the red and yellow wild plums, and the crab apples are +beginning to give forth a faint fragrance which will grow more +pronounced from now until October. The amber clusters of the hop are +poured in profusion over the reddening fruit of the hawthorn. Farther +on is the brook Eschol where the purple grapes are hanging. The snowy +clusters of the sweet elder, which were so beautiful in July and early +August, have developed into ample clusters of juicy berries which +bring memories of the wine that grandmother used to make. Flocks of +robins are feeding greedily on the abundant wild cherries. Thickets of +panicled dogwood are feeding stations for other migrants; already the +crimson fruit-stalks have been stripped of half their white berries. +These native fruits are so many and so varied, they make the walk a +constant delight. Each plant is a revelation. Who ever saw for the +first time the huge clusters of fruit hanging from the wild spikenard +on the face of the cliff and did not thrill with the charm of a great +discovery? Each cluster of ruby, winey berries is as large as a +hickory-nut and the clusters are aggregated upon stalks so as to +resemble huge bunches of grapes. For contrast there are the little +bunches of whitish berries on the low-growing false spikenard; they +are speckled with reddish and gray dots as if they might be cowbird's +eggs in miniature. Jack-in-the-pulpits show club-shaped bunches of +scarlet berries here and there among the grasses. On the wooded slopes +there are the white fruits of the baneberry on its quaintly-shaped red +stalks, the pretty fruit clusters of the moonseed and the smilax. The +scattered berries of the green-brier will be black in winter, but +their September hue is a bronze green of a delicate shade which +artists might envy. It will take another month to ripen the drupes of +the black-haw into their blue-black beauty; now they are green on one +side and red on the other, like a ripening apple. It's a fine +education to know just which fruits you may nibble and which you must +not eat. Red-stalked clusters of black berries hang from the vines of +the Virginia creeper among leaves just touched with the hectic flame +that tells of their passing, all too soon. At the sign of the sumac, +tall torches of garnet berries rise. Down the bank, the bittersweet +sends trailing arms jeweled with orange-colored pods just opening to +display the scarlet arils within. Crimsoning capsules give the +burning bush its name; this may well have been the bush at which Moses +was directed to take off his sandals because he was treading on holy +ground. Large, triangular membranaceous pods hang thickly from the +white-lined branches of the bladdernut. Cup-like leaves of the +honeysuckle hold bunches of scarlet berries. So on and on the creek +leads to new beauties of color and form, new delights for taste and +smell. Every plant has some excuse for its being, something of the +loveliness and fragrance of the summer stored in its fruits. There is +a lesson for the mind and the soul to be gathered with the fruit of +these shrubs and vines. Summer still works with tireless energy. She +has done with the leaf and the bud and the blossom; all her remaining +strength is being spent in filling the fruits before the night of the +white death comes. + + * * * * * + +Since the first of the month the little catkins have been creeping +from the twigs of the hazel, and their tender, spring-like green is +quite as interesting as the ripening bunches of nuts. These little +catkins will hang short and stiff all winter, but when the ice goes +out of the rivers and the first frog croaks in the springtime, they +will lengthen, soften and grow yellow with their abundant pollen. +Squirrels are busy among the acorns and the hickory nuts; the split +husks and shells are thickly strewn beneath the trees. Red-headed +woodpeckers are gathering acorns and pushing them behind the flaky +bark of the wild cherry for use during the late fall; sometimes a +little family of the redheads remains all winter. Chipmunks are +carrying acorns to their granaries; they dash into their holes with a +squeak as if in derision at your slow-footed manner of walking. + + * * * * * + +Sumac flames from the fence corners and lights up the country lanes. +It is the first of the shrubs to announce in fiery placards the coming +spectacle of the passing of the summer. Next is the Virginia +creeper,--see where it flames up the wild cherry tree, scattering +crimson leaves to the grass beneath. Once in a day's journey along the +creek one may find a small red maple. In the middle of its foliage is +a small, flame-like spot which grows larger day by day. Gradually some +of the other maples catch the color fire, first a little soft maple by +the shore of a muddy bayou, next a small sugar maple on the rocky +slope. The great spectacle does not come until October, but the +placards announcing it grow more numerous and vivid day by day. +Blackberry leaves are splashed with crimson; daily the blood-red +banner of the sumac grows larger and more striking. Walnuts and +hickories begin to lose their yellow leaves; patches of yellow appear +on the elms and the lindens; though the mass of the foliage remains +until October, many leaves flutter down daily, and it is possible to +see twice as far into the thicket as in June. + + _"The wine of life keeps oozing, drop by drop; + The leaves of life keep falling, one by one."_ + +Flocks of grackles spend their days in the cornfields which run down +to the creek bottom and their nights amid the wild rice and the rushes +and willows in the swamp. In the timber fringes and the broad bottoms +along the creek you get glimpses of the catbird feasting on the +grapes and the wild plums; the brown thrasher and the woodthrush, +wholly silent now; the little house wren who has lost her chatter; the +vireos and the orioles, the wood pewee, the crested fly catcher and +the kingbird. They all seem to be going southward. There are a few +nests and young birds in the early part of the month--the +yellow-billed cuckoo, the Savannah sparrow, the goldfinch. But these +are exceptions to the general rule. + +Little flocks of warblers flit among the tree tops and the bushy +margin of ponds near the creek will soon be alive with the myrtle +warblers--as numerous as English sparrows in a barn-yard. In the night +time you may hear the "tseep" of the warblers as they wing their way +swiftly towards the southland. Sometimes there is the tinkling sound +of the bob-o-link, also flying in the night time, and in the morning +there may be a flock of them in some meadow, leisurely getting their +breakfast after their all-night flight, chattering to each other in +the tinkling tones which are unlike any other song-talk in bird land. + +The humming bird, the swallows, the purple martins, the chimney +swifts, also seem to be a-pilgriming. Gradually you become conscious +that all of them are flying southward, always down the stream and +never up. The first keen blasts up in the northland have given them a +warning and they are going steadily, happily, but for the most part +silently, on down the stream, giving rare beauty to these halcyon days +of late summer; on past the farthest point of your vision, where the +silver gray mist softens the outline of the forest-crowned headlands, +and lavender shadows hang gently across the valleys; always on and on +towards the land where all is light and life and where summer ever +abides in beauty. You look up and see flocks of cowbirds flying in the +same direction and still larger flocks of night hawks, hundreds of +them in the air at once. Like the queens on the mournful barge of the +fallen King Arthur, their mission is to escort the dying summer +floating down, always down + + _"To the island valley of Avilion; + Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, + Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies + Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns + And bowery billows crown'd with summer sea._ + +You can climb to the highest cliff and look down to where the creek +valley blends with the valley of the river, standing as did Sir +Bedivere where he + + _... saw + Straining his eyes, beneath an arch of hand, + Or thought he saw, the speck that bare the king + Down the long water opening on the deep, + Somewhere far off, pass on, and on, and go + From less and less and vanish into light."_ + +The summer which has just been escorted down the valley shall come +again. You remember that even the mourners after the passing of +Arthur, when the first keen pangs of sorrow were over, took heart +again. This was the verse they carved on his tomb: + + _"Hic jacet Arthurus Rex + Quondam Rex, que Futurus."_ + +And the soul of the summer cannot die. In many a grateful heart it +lives forever as a gentle memory of loveliness and sweetness and of +inspiration to higher and better things. Neither shall it lose its +individuality; for it has bestowed its peculiar charms, its own +enlargements of knowledge, its rare enrichments of faith and hope; +they were fuller and richer than those of any other summer. As the +senses reach farther into the science of each summer, and the mind +lifts the veil of Isis and sees a little farther into the harmony of +her purposes, so the heart draws closer to the heart of the summer and +receives a larger benediction, an essence of immortality, an ambrosial +food richer and more real than that which sustained the ancient gods. +And herein is hope for the race. It cannot be but that each summer, +with its recollections of walks and talks with parents and friends in +the summers long gone by, with its sweetest memories of life and love, +with its mighty tides of growth and splendor, its wistful dreamy skies +in these last days of its loveliness--it cannot be but that each +summer warms many a heart with the thrill divine, lifts many a life to +a plane of fairer vision and nobler purpose, instills a desire for a +life more in keeping with its own strength and cleanliness and beauty. +So does each summer help the world onward to + + _"That far-off divine event + To which the whole creation moves."_ + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Some Summer Days in Iowa, by Frederick John Lazell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOME SUMMER DAYS IN IOWA *** + +***** This file should be named 18249.txt or 18249.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/2/4/18249/ + +Produced by Brian Sogard, Richard J. 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