Thisisadeliciousevening,whenthewholebodyisonesense,andimbibesdelightthrougheverypore.IgoandcomewithastrangelibertyinNature,apartofherself.AsIwalkalongthestonyshoreofthepondinmyshirtsleeves,thoughitiscoolaswellascloudyandwindy,andIseenothingspecialtoattractme,alltheelementsareunusuallycongenialtome.Thebullfrogstrumptousherinthenight,andthenoteofthewhippoorwillisborneontheripplingwindfromoverthewater.Sympathywiththeflutteringalderandpoplarleavesalmosttakesawaymybreathyet,likethelake,myserenityisrippledbutnotruffled.Thesesmallwavesraisedbytheeveningwindareasremotefromstormasthesmoothreflectingsurface.Thoughitisnowdark,thewindstillblowsandroarsinthewood,thewavesstilldash,andsomecreatureslulltherestwiththeirnotes.Thereposeisnevercomplete.Thewildestanimalsdonotrepose,butseektheirpreynowthefox,andskunk,andrabbit,nowroamthefieldsandwoodswithoutfear.TheyareNature’swatchmen,—linkswhichconnectthedaysofanimatedlife.
WhenIreturntomyhouseIfindthatvisitorshavebeenthereandlefttheircards,eitherabunchofflowers,orawreathofevergreen,oranameinpencilonayellowwalnutleaforachip.Theywhocomerarelytothewoodstakesomelittlepieceoftheforestintotheirhandstoplaywithbytheway,whichtheyleave,eitherintentionallyoraccidentally.Onehaspeeledawillowwand,wovenitintoaring,anddroppeditonmytable.Icouldalwaystellifvisitorshadcalledinmyabsence,eitherbythebendedtwigsorgrass,ortheprintoftheirshoes,andgenerallyofwhatsexorageorqualitytheywerebysomeslighttraceleft,asaflowerdropped,orabunchofgrasspluckedandthrownaway,evenasfaroffastherailroad,halfamiledistant,orbythelingeringodorofacigarorpipe.Nay,Iwasfrequentlynotifiedofthepassageofatravelleralongthehighwaysixtyrodsoffbythescentofhispipe.
Thereiscommonlysufficientspaceaboutus.Ourhorizonisneverquiteatourelbows.Thethickwoodisnotjustatourdoor,northepond,butsomewhatisalwaysclearing,familiarandwornbyus,appropriatedandfencedinsomeway,andreclaimedfro