The Beauties of Nature
rms of bees, and the variety of all kinds of flowers." Bacon considered that a garden is "the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man, without which buildings and palaces are but gro
uman life."[22] Elsewhere there may be scattered flowers, or sheets of colour due to one o
enamell
n turf sucked th
the ground with
e primrose tha
ow-toe, and p
and the pansy f
owing
and the well at
an that hang th
r that sad embr
, contrast or compare the beauty of g
They surpass, no doubt, the dried specimens of a museum, but, lovely as they are, they can be no more compared with the natural vegetat
s Bedstraw, Harebells, and the sweet Thyme; marshy places with the yellow stars of the Bog Asphodel, the Sun-dew sparkling with diamonds, Ragged Robin, the beautifully fringed petals of the Buckbean, the lovely little Bog Pimpernel, or the feathery tufts of Cotton Grass; hedgerows with Hawthorn and Traveller's Joy, Wild Rose and Honeys
s-ease, Lady's Mantles and Lady's Tresses, Eyebright, Milkwort, Foxgloves, Herb Rob
gotten. A thousand sounds-many delightful in themselves, and all by association-son
which is said to be very healthy, is certainly delicious, and the eff
onder lighting up the lichen and the moss on the oak trunk, a gentle air stirring in the branches above, giving glimpses o
ace of the ground like moonlight coming and going behind the clouds, from a minute thread-like fungus invisible in the day-time to the unassisted eye; and here and there thick dumpy mushrooms displayed a sharp, clear dome of light, whose
o our ancestors the spec
reached to Heaven, its branches covered the Earth, and the roots penetrated i
were more fascinating than the Nature Spirits-Elves and Fairies, Neckans and Kel
haunts in dale
slow stream or
ht nights. But while evening thus clothes many a sce
suited for Fairy feasts; where one might most exp
a bank, the f
ind in its firs
ant strawberry
shower then,
eir purple va
llow,-linked
c shapes; these
and rain
The Elk and Bear, the Boar and Wolf have gone, the Stag has nearly disappeared, and but a scanty remnant of the original wild Cat
rel vaulting th
ay, the mavis an
Woodpecker, Nuthatch, Magpi
Beech, the white or pink flowers of the Thorn, the pyramids of the Horse-chestnut, festoons of the Laburnum an
ms of the Broom, which, however, while Gorse and Heather continue in bloom for months, "blazes fo
air teems with insects, with the busy murmur of bees and the idle hum of flies, whi
erries 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, bee
orange trees in full fruit; while the more we examine the more we find to admire; all pe
he Pomegr
rare than Or
less, even the Brambles and Woodbine, which straggl
hardly be appreciated when they are covered with leaves; and under foot the beds of fallen leaves; while the evergreens seem brighter tha
birds being then far away in the dense African forests, on the other hand those which remain are much
ard trees as conscious beings, indeed
e procession over the heavenward ridges-nothing of this can be conceived among the unvexed and unvaried felicities of the lowland forest; while to all these direct sources of greater beauty are added, first the power of redundance, the mere quantity of foliage visible in the folds and on the promontories of a single Alp being greater than that of an entire lowland landscape (unless a view from some Cathedral tow
thers. The foliage of the Beech is so thick that scarcely anything will grow under it, except those spring pla
la (Pinus Cembra) are close companions. They grow together in Siberia; they do not occur in Scandinavia or Russi
a thin sheet of closely woven mycelium. It was at first supposed that the fungus was attacking the roots of the tree, but it is now considered that the tree and the fungus mutually benefit one another. The fungus collects nutriment from the soil, which
CAL F
ce pa
dividuality of its own. In the tropics, on the contrary, they are interlaced and interwoven, so as to form one mass of vegetation; many of the trunks are almost concealed by an undergrowth of verdure, and intertwined by spiral stems of parasitic plants; from tree to tree hang an inextricable network of lianas, and it is often difficult to tell to which tree the fruits, flowers, and leaves really belong. The trunks run straight up to a great height without a branch, and then form
icate to a practised ear the neighbourhood of an ape, a sloth, or some other of the few mammals which inhabit the great forests. Occasionally a large blue bee hums past, a brilliant butterfly flashes across the path, or a humming-bird hangs in the air over a flower like, as St. Pierre says,
ically describes a mornin
uring thorn-trees. Suddenly a yellow light spreads upwards in the east, the stars quickly fade, and the dark fringes of the forest and the tall palms show out black against the yellow sky, and almost before one has time to observe the change the sun has risen straight and fierce, and the whole landscape is bathed in the full light of day. But the morning is yet for another hour cool and fresh,
an be better than the description
pe of large outstretched hands; at others finely cut or feathery like the leaves of Mimos?. Below, the tree trunks were everywhere linked together by sipos; the woody flexible stems of climbing and creeping trees, whose foliage is far away above, mingled with that of the taller independent trees. Some were twiste
ere this melancholy change? Why have deserts replaced cities? It is mainly owing to the ruthless destruction of the trees, which has involved that of nations. Even nearer home a similar process may be witnessed. Two French departments-the Hautes- and Basses-Alpes-are being gradually reduced to ruin by the destruction of the forests. Cultivation is diminishing, vineyards ar
e we have an illustratio
of Pines. The increased value is estimated at no less than 1,000,000,000 francs. Where there were fifty years ago only a few thousand poor and unhealthy shepherds whose
dually disappearing. This is, I suppose, unavoidable, but it is a matter of regret. Forests
ence on the air. The oak has a hundred thousand more leaves than necessary, and never hides a single acorn. Nothing utilitarian-everything on a scale of splendid waste. Such noble, broadcast, open-armed waste is delicious to behold. Never was there such
e shows many different tissues with more or less technical names, bark and cambium, medullary rays, pith, and more or less specialise
the skin or epidermis. Below this are one or more layers of "palisade cells," the function of which seems to be to regulate the quantity of light entering the leaf. Under these again is the "parenchyme," several layers of more or less rounded cells, leaving air spaces and passages between them. From place to place in the parenchyme run "fibro-vascular bundles," forming a sort of skeleton to the leaf, and comprising air-vessels on the upper side, rayed or dotted vessels with woody
wall perforated by extremely minute orifices, of protoplasm, cell fluid, an
differ in every species, while in the same species and even in the same plant, th
known to reach a length of 1000 feet, as also do some of the lianas of tropical forests. These, however, attain no great bulk, and the most gigantic specime
an that of plants. And so no doubt it is. Yet an animal, even man himself, will re
rother, lasting (as Tacitus calculated) 840 years, putting out new shoots, and presaging the translation of that empire from the C?sarian line, happening in Nero's reign."[33] But in other cases the estimates rest on a surer foundation, and it cannot be doubted that there are trees still living which were already of considerable size
time drew the conclusion that it must have been already a large tree when Rome was founded, and though the facts do not warrant this conclusion, the tree did, no doubt, go back to Pagan times. The great Yew of Foun
vy 45
ch
ne
f Leban
e 1
15
istichum 4
b 600
om both for their roots and branches, are finer, and can be better seen, while, when they are close together, "one cannot see the w
s recall, games in the hay as children
nd summer is in them-the walks by silent scented paths, the rests in noonday heat, the joy of herds and flocks, the power of all shepherd life and meditation, the life of sunlight upon the world, falling in emerald streaks, and soft blue shadows, where else it would have struck on the dark mould or scorch
eneath arching boughs all veiled and dim with blossom,-paths, that for ever droop and rise over the green banks and mounds sweeping down in scented undulation, steep to the blue water, studded here and there with new mown heaps, filling all the air with fainter sweetness,-lo
nd herbage of buttercup or hawkweed mixed among them, until every square foot of meadow, or mossy bank, became an infinite picture and possession to me, a
meadows, on the contrary, are sweet and lovely with wild Geraniums, Harebells, Bluebells, Pink Restharrow, Yellow Lady's Bedstraw, Chervil, Eyebright, Red and White Silenes, Geraniums, Gentians, and many other flowers which have no familiar English names; all adding not only to the beauty and sweetness of the meadows, but forming a valuable part of the
n with Furze or Broom, while over all are the fresh air and sunshine, sweet scents, and the hum of bees. And if the Downs seem full of life and sunshine, their broad shoulders are types of kindly strength, they g
en still draw the waggons laden with warm hay or golden wheat sheaves, or drag the
so than at the foot of the Downs, when they are in great part composed of wild Guelder Roses and rich dark Yews, decked with festoons of Trave
et of chalk; fringed with purple Loosestrife and Willowherb, starred with white Water Ranunculuses, or rich Watercress, while every now
dom run straight, but tend to curve towards the left. At each end of the field a high bank, locally called a balk, often 3 or 4 feet high, runs at right angles to the rigs. In small fields there are generally eight, but sometimes t
t stopping to rest. Oxen, as we know, were driven not with a whip, but with a goad or pole, the most convenient length for which was 16-1/2 feet, and the ancient ploughman used his "pole" or "perch" by placing it at right angles to his first furrow, thus measuring the amount he had to plough. Henc
lly joining together, and dividing the produce. Hence the number of "rigs," one for each ox. We often, ho
ound, and as it was easier to pull than to push them, this gradually gave the furrow a turn towards the left, thus accounting for the slight curvature. Lastly, while the oxen rested on arr
of old customs and modes of life, but it w
re yet rich in flowers: yellow with Cowslips and Primroses, pink with Cuckoo fl
ch But
olished ur
ipe summer to
t in swathes ready for the great four-horse waggon, or collecting it in cocks for the night; while some way off the mowers are still at work, and we hear from time to time the pleasant sound of the whetting of the scythe. All are working with a will lest rain should come and their labour be thrown awa
ng with
ittle angels o
t
y golden
by sil
sprinkles the whole
TNO
he Spe
Mil
Jeffe
ist's Wanderings in th
Ten
Ham
Mar
Rus
Voyage of th
Voyage of th
et, On the Path
velyn'
dern Pa
osed to owe its peculiar flavour to the alpine Alchemilla,
. R. L
Ham