Barn doors and byways . row filled with snowy white. Thesebeautiful parallels led over a doming ridge, likea striped carpet, to the feet of a red house tuckedaway amid its dark-green spruces. The designwas exquisite for all its ruled primness. On themountain the snow had not melted, and HighPasture looked as if some giant had dropped hisnapkin there. A red sunset illumined the vistaof our drive when we reached home again, andglancing across our garden, which was in heavyshadow, we saw the dun hillside ablaze with thereflected glory, as if autumn had suddenly comeback. But there was to be no mo
Barn doors and byways . row filled with snowy white. Thesebeautiful parallels led over a doming ridge, likea striped carpet, to the feet of a red house tuckedaway amid its dark-green spruces. The designwas exquisite for all its ruled primness. On themountain the snow had not melted, and HighPasture looked as if some giant had dropped hisnapkin there. A red sunset illumined the vistaof our drive when we reached home again, andglancing across our garden, which was in heavyshadow, we saw the dun hillside ablaze with thereflected glory, as if autumn had suddenly comeback. But there was to be no more autumn forus. The snow which had melted speedily re-turned and did not melt, and there followed along season of such exquisite colors and wood-land mysteries and roadside loveliness as the citydweller knows nothing of. Indeed, the man whoknows the country only in summer has but littleconception of natures most beautiful effects, andas we tramped on our snowshoes through de-serted formal gardens and down the lanes be-. The next day we woke into a picture-book world of sunshine anddazzling white. See page 239 A BERKSHIRE WINTER 241 hind the closed and boarded-up summer estateswhich dot the Berkshire hillsides, we often won-dered what the owners find in town to compen-sate for these lost months, when autumn stainsthe woods and winter creeps through them withits glory of color on a key as different from sum-mers key as minor from major, and then spring,resurgent, comes again, with apple blossoms inher hair. Perhaps the price of their estates isthis lost vigil of the under-seasons, if winter bean under-season rather than the crown of theyear! If that is so, we breathed pharisaicalthanks for our poverty, as we cast one morebackward glance at the deserted formal gardenand the boarded mansion, and plunged into thewonder of the woods. Our house is small andhumble behind its Norway spruces, but the fireis always alight on its hearth and there is alwayssuet for the birds. There is a cu
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublisherbosto, bookyear1913
