Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 7Sylvester, Charles Herbert
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Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 7
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
After a still winter night I awoke with the impression that some
question had been put to me, which I had been endeavoring in vain to
answer in my sleep, as what--how--when--where? But there was dawning
Nature, in whom all creatures live, looking in at my broad windows with
serene and satisfied face, and no question on _her_ lips. I awoke to an
answered question, to Nature and daylight. The snow lying deep on the
earth dotted with young pines, and the very slope of the hill on which
my house is placed, seemed to say, Forward! Nature puts no question and
answers none which we mortals ask. She has long ago taken her
resolution. "O Prince, our eyes contemplate with admiration and transmit
to the soul the wonderful and varied spectacle of this universe. The
night veils without doubt a part of this glorious creation; but day
comes to reveal to us this great work, which extends from earth even
into the plains of the ether."
[Illustration: KNEELING TO DRINK]
Then to my morning work. First I take an axe and pail and go in search
of water if that be not a dream. After a cold and snowy night it needed
a divining rod to find it. Every winter the liquid and trembling surface
of the pond, which was so sensitive to every breath, and reflected every
light and shadow, becomes solid to the depth of a foot or a foot and a
half, so that it will support the heaviest teams, and perchance the snow
covers it to an equal depth, and it is not to be distinguished from any
level field. Like the marmots in the surrounding hills, it closes its
eyelids and becomes dormant for three months or more. Standing on the
snow-covered plain, as if in a pasture amid the hills, I cut my way
first through a foot of snow, and then a foot of ice, and open a window
under my feet, where, kneeling to drink, I look down into the quiet
parlor of the fishes, pervaded by a softened light as through a window
of ground glass, with its bright sanded floor the same as in summer;
there a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight sky,
corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the inhabitants.
Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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