. American homes and gardens. THE NEW YEAR HAPPY NEW YEAR—a new year whosecoming season of lovely flowers, luxuriantverdure and fields of the green of growingthings will make us forget the stillness andbleakness of the white Winter time, whenall the earth seems sleeping, and when thecreaking of the frost crystals underfoot, as we step forththese crisp mornings, almost startles us with a sense of theloss that seems ours since yesterdays beautiful Summerwas gently led by the hand of Autumn to this Wintry were wont to wend our way through August woodlands,and if a twig snapped at our ste
. American homes and gardens. THE NEW YEAR HAPPY NEW YEAR—a new year whosecoming season of lovely flowers, luxuriantverdure and fields of the green of growingthings will make us forget the stillness andbleakness of the white Winter time, whenall the earth seems sleeping, and when thecreaking of the frost crystals underfoot, as we step forththese crisp mornings, almost startles us with a sense of theloss that seems ours since yesterdays beautiful Summerwas gently led by the hand of Autumn to this Wintry were wont to wend our way through August woodlands,and if a twig snapped at our step it only seemed to awakenan echo caught up by the rustling of leaves, the murmur ofthe clear waters of the gurgling spring, the voice of thegolden-throated oriole, the buzzing of the bumble bee orthe brushing of the frond of the Lady Fern, against thegray rock to which she clung for protection when mischiev-ous Ariel began his endless pranks. But now the creaking. The country-side in January snow is jealous of all nature, and the sound of your treadgoes forth like the shots of a miniature battery. The sun willtake revenge at noontime and now and then dash to the earthsome too-presuming icicle that dares to cling to the branchesof the elm by the garden path. And old Sol will keep theface of the time-marking dial down there free from beingsmothered by the relentless tyrant of the season, and if yourfancy so directs you may stroll in your garden in Januaryafter all and not find that the magic of Jack Frosts fan-tastic doings has blotted out the memory of the delicatehandiwork embroidered through the months of the Summersolstice by Flora herself. How the place in a mans heart,the garden, keeps warm the thought of nodding Daisies,fragrant Heliotrope and sun-kissed Golden Glows! Wemay shiver at first glimpse of the changed aspect of thegarden through the months of the short days and the longnights, but nothing can make us forget the chirp of thecrick
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectarchitecturedomestic
