Natural history -- England -- Wiltshire; Wiltshire (England) -- Description and travel
Several such paths debouch here--which is the right one to follow? It
is pure chance. On again, with more tall bracken, thorn thickets, and
maple bushes, and noting now the strange absence of living things. Not
a bird rises startled from the boughs, not a rabbit crosses the way; for
in the forest, as in the fields, there are places haunted and places
deserted, save by occasional passing visitors. Suddenly the bracken
ceases, and the paths disappear under a thick grove of beeches, whose
dead leaves and beechmast seem to have smothered vegetation.
Insensibly the low ground rises again, the brake and bushes and
underwood reappear, but the trees grow thinner and farther apart; they
are mainly oaks, which like to stand separate in their grandeur. There
is one dead oak all alone in the midst of the underwood, with a wide
space around it. A vast grey trunk, split and riven and hollow, with a
single pointed branch rising high above it, dead, too, and _grey_: not a
living twig, not so much as a brown leaf, gives evidence of lingering
life. The oak is dead; but even in his death he rules, and the open
space around him shows how he once overshadowed and prevented the growth
of meaner trees. More oaks, then a broad belt of beeches, and out
suddenly into an opening.
It is but a stone's-throw across--a level mead walled in with tail
trees, whose leaves in myriads lie on the brown-tinted grass. One great
thicket only grows in the midst of it. The nights are chilly here, as
elsewhere; but in the day, the winds being kept off by the trees and
underwood, it becomes quite summer-like, and the leaves turn to their
most brilliant hues. The stems of the bracken are yellow; the fronds
vary from pale green and gold, commingled, to a reddish bronze. The
hawthorn leaves are light yellow, some touched with red, others almost
black. Maple bushes glow with gold. Here the beeches show great spots
of orange; yonder the same tree, from the highest branch to the lowest,
has become a rich brown. Brown too, and buff, are the oaks; but the
tints so shade into each other that it is hard to separate and name
them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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