ot is a carpet of flowers--Anemones, Cowslips, Primroses,
Bluebells, and the golden blossoms of the Broom, which, however, while
Gorse and Heather continue in bloom for months, "blazes for a week or
two, and is then completely extinguished, like a fire that has burnt
itself out."[27]

In summer the tints grow darker, the birds are more numerous and full of
life; the air teems with insects, with the busy murmur of bees and the
idle hum of flies, while the cool of morning and evening, and the heat
of the day, are all alike delicious.

As the year advances and the flowers wane, we have many beautiful fruits
and berries, the red hips and haws of the wild roses, scarlet holly
berries, crimson yew cups, the translucent berries of the Guelder Rose,
hanging coral beads of the Black Bryony, feathery festoons of the
Traveller's Joy, and others less conspicuous, but still exquisite in
themselves--acorns, beech nuts, ash keys, and many more. It is really
difficult to say which are most beautiful, the tender greens of spring
or the rich tints of autumn, which glow so brightly in the sunshine.

Tropical fruits are even more striking. No one who has seen it can ever
forget a grove of orange trees in full fruit; while the more we examine
the more we find to admire; all perfectly and exquisitely finished
"usque ad ungues," perfect inside and outside, for Nature

Does in the Pomegranate close
Jewels more rare than Ormus shows.[28]

In winter the woods are comparatively bare and lifeless, even the
Brambles and Woodbine, which straggle over the tangle of underwood being
almost leafless.

Still even then they have a beauty and interest of their own; the mossy
boles of the trees; the delicate tracery of the branches which can
hardly be appreciated when they are covered with leaves; and under foot
the beds of fallen leaves; while the evergreens seem brighter than in
summer; the ruddy stems and rich green foliage of the Scotch Pines, and
the dark spires of the Firs, seeming to acquire fresh beauty.

Again in winter, though no doubt the living tenants of the woods are
much less numerous, many of our birds being then far away in the dense
African forests, on the other hand those which remain are much more
easily visible. We can follow the birds from tree to tree, and the
Squirrel from bough to bough.

It requires little imagination to regard trees as conscious beings,
indeed it is almost an effort not to do so.

"The various