What an unlooked for flight was this from our shadowy avenue of
black-ash and balm-of-gilead trees into the infinite! Now we have our
feet again upon the turf. Nowhere does the grass spring up so
industriously as in this homely yard, along the base of the stone wall
and in the sheltered nooks of the buildings, and especially around the
southern door-step--a locality which seems particularly favorable to its
growth, for it is already tall enough to bend over and wave in the wind.
I observe that several weeds--and, most frequently, a plant that stains
the fingers with its yellow juice--have survived and retained their
freshness and sap throughout the winter. One knows not how they have
deserved such an exception from the common lot of their race. They are
now the patriarchs of the departed year, and may preach mortality to the
present generation of flowers and weeds.
Among the delights of spring, how is it possible to forget the birds?
Even the crows were welcome, as the sable harbingers of a brighter and
livelier race. They visited us before the snow was off, but seem mostly
to have betaken themselves to remote depths of the woods, which they
haunt all summer long. Many a time shall I disturb them there, and feel
as if I had intruded among a company of silent worshipers as they sit in
Sabbath stillness among the treetops. Their voices, when they speak, are
in admirable accordance with the tranquil solitude of a summer
afternoon, and, resounding so far above the head, their loud clamor
increases the religious quiet of the scene instead of breaking it. A
crow, however, has no real pretensions to religion, in spite of his
gravity of mien and black attire; he is certainly a thief, and probably
an infidel. The gulls are far more respectable, in a moral point of
view. These denizens of sea-beaten rocks and haunters of the lonely
beach come up our inland river at this season, and soar high overhead,
flapping their broad wings in the upper sunshine. They are among the
most picturesque of birds, because they so float and rest upon the air
as to become almost stationary parts of the landscape. The imagination
has time to grow acquainted with them; they have not flitted away in a
moment. You go up among the clouds and greet these lofty-flighted gulls,
and repose confidently with them upon the sustaining atmosphere. Ducks
have their haunts along the solitary places of the river, and alight in
flocks upon the broad bosom of the overflowed meadows. Their flight is
too rapid and determined for the eye to catch enjoyment from it,
although it never fails to stir up the heart with the sportsman's
ineradicable instinct. They have now gone farther northward, but will
visit us again in autumn.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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