Winter - free ebook by Dallas Lore Sharp

Read as playlist

Winter

Dallas Lore Sharp

55 chapters

3 hour read

Read as playlist

Selected Chapters

55 chapters

WINTER

WINTER

BY DALLAS LORE SHARP AUTHOR OF “THE FALL OF THE YEAR,” “THE LAY OF THE LAND,” “THE FACE OF THE FIELDS,” ETC. ILLUSTRATED BY ROBERT BRUCE HORSFALL BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY The Riverside Press Cambridge COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE AND COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY THE CHAPPLE PUBLISHING COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1910, 1911, BY PERRY MASON COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY THE GOLDEN RULE PUBLISHING COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY THE CENTURY COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1908, 1911, 1912, BY D

1 minute read

Read Chapter

INTRODUCTION

INTRODUCTION

As in The Fall of the Year , so here in Winter , the second volume of this series, I have tried by story and sketch and suggestion to catch the spirit of the season. In this volume it is the large, free, strong, fierce, wild soul of Winter which I would catch, the bitter boreal might that, out of doors, drives all before it; that challenges all that is wild and fierce and strong and free and large within us, till the bounding red blood belts us like an equator, and the glow of all the tropics bl

2 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER I HUNTING THE SNOW

CHAPTER I HUNTING THE SNOW

You want no gun, no club, no game-bag, no steel trap, no snare when you go hunting the snow. Rubber boots or overshoes, a good, stout stick to help you up the ridges, a pair of field-glasses and a keen eye, are all you need for this hunt,—besides, of course, the snow and the open country. You have shoveled the first snow of the winter; you have been snowballing in it; you have coasted on it; and gone sleigh-riding over it; but unless you have gone hunting over it you have missed the rarest, best

13 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER II THE TURKEY DRIVE

CHAPTER II THE TURKEY DRIVE

The situation was serious enough for the two boys. It was not a large fortune, but it was their whole fortune, that straggled along the slushy road in the shape of five hundred weary, hungry turkeys, which were looking for a roosting-place. But there was no place where they could roost, no safe place, as the boys well knew, for on each side of the old road stretched the forest trees, a dangerous, and in the weakened condition of the turkeys, an impossible roost on such a night as was coming. For

15 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER III WHITE-FOOT

CHAPTER III WHITE-FOOT

The December rain was falling down, down, down, as if the drops were lead instead of water. The December sky, if you could call it sky, had settled down, down, down, as if it too were of lead, and were being propped up only by the tops of the stiff bare trees. A green stick in the fireplace behind me sizzled and sputtered and blew its small steam whistles to warn me away from the window,—from the sight of the naked trees, and the cold, thick fog upon the meadow, and the blur of the pine woods be

10 minute read

Read Chapter

I

I

The first snowstorm! I would not miss seeing the first snowstorm, not if I had to climb up to my high, tarry, smoky roof in the city and lie down on my back, as I once did, in order to shut out everything but the gray wavering flakes that came scattering from the sky. But how marvelously white and airy they looked, too, coming down over the blackened city of roofs, transfiguring it with their floating veil of purity! You must see the first snowfall, and, if you want to, jump and caper with the f

28 minute read

Read Chapter

II

II

The sorrows of winter are its storms. They are its greatest glories also. One should no more miss the sight of the winter storms than he should miss the sight of the winter birds and stars, the winter suns and moons! A storm in summer is only an incident; in winter it is an event, a part of the main design. Nature gives herself over by the month to the planning and bringing off of the winter storms—vast arctic shows, the dreams of her wildest moods, the work of her mightiest minions. Do not miss

44 minute read

Read Chapter

III

III

You must see how close you had passed to and fro all summer to the vireo’s nest, hanging from the fork on a branch of some low bush or tree, so near to the path that it almost brushed your hat. Yet you never saw it! Go on and make a study of the empty nests; see particularly how many of them were built out along the roads or paths, as if the builders wished to be near their human neighbors—as, indeed, I believe they do. Study how the different birds build—materials, shapes, finish, supports; for

34 minute read

Read Chapter

IV

IV

When the snow hardens, especially after a strong wind, go out to see what you can find in the wind furrows of the snow—in the holes, hollows, pockets, and in footprints in the snow. Nothing? Look again, closely—that dust—wind-sweepings—seeds! Yes, seeds. Gather several small boxes of them and when you return home take a small magnifying glass and make them out—the sticktights, gray birches, yellow birches, pines, ragweeds, milfoil—I cannot number them! It is a lesson in the way the winds and the

36 minute read

Read Chapter

V

V

When the snow lies five or six inches deep, walk out along the fence-rows, roadsides, and old fields to see the juncos, the sparrows, and goldfinches feeding upon the seeds of the dead weeds standing stiff and brown above the snow. Does the sight mean anything to you? What does it mean?...

14 minute read

Read Chapter

VI

VI

Burns has a fine poem beginning— in which, he asks,— Did you ever ask yourself the question? Go forth, then, as the dusk begins to fall one of these chill winter days and try to see “what comes o’” the birds, where they sleep these winter nights. You will find an account of my own watching in a chapter called “Birds’ Winter Beds” in “Wild Life Near Home.”...

32 minute read

Read Chapter

VII

VII

You will come back from your watching in the dusk with the feeling that a winter night for the birds is unspeakably dreary, perilous, and chill. You will close the door on the darkness outside with a shiver as much from dread as from the cold. you will think of the partridge beneath the snow, the crow in his swaying pine-top, the kinglet in the close-armed cedar, the wild duck riding out the storm in his freezing water-hole, and you will be glad for your four thick walls and downy blankets, and

1 minute read

Read Chapter

VIII

VIII

This winter I have had two letters asking me how best to study the mosses and lichens, and I answered, “Begin now.” Winter, when the leaves are off, the ground bare, the birds and flowers gone, and all is reduced to singleness and simplicity—winter is the time to observe the shapes, colors, varieties, and growth of the lichens. Not that every lover of nature needs to know the long Latin names (and many of these lesser plants have no other names), but that every lover of the out-of-doors should n

31 minute read

Read Chapter

IX

IX

You should see the brook, “bordered with sparkling frost-work ... as gay as with its fringe of summer flowers.” You should examine under a microscope the wonderful crystal form of the snow-flakes—each flake shaped by an infinitely accurate hand according to a pattern that seems the perfection, the very poetry, of mechanical drawing....

15 minute read

Read Chapter

X

X

What a world of gray days, waste lands, bare woods, and frozen waters there is to see! And you should see them—gray and bare and waste and frozen. But what is a frozen pond for if not to be skated on? and waste white lands, but to go sleighing over? and cold gray days, but so many opportunities to stay indoors with your good books? See the winter bleak and cheerless as at times you will, and as at times you ought; still if you will look twice, and think as you look, you will see the fishermen on

48 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER V CHRISTMAS IN THE WOODS

CHAPTER V CHRISTMAS IN THE WOODS

But on the night before this particular Christmas every creature of the woods that could stir was up and stirring; for over the old snow was falling swiftly, silently, a soft, fresh covering that might mean a hungry Christmas unless the dinner were had before morning. Yet, when the morning dawned, a cheery Christmas sun broke across the great gum swamp, lighting the snowy boles and soft-piled limbs of the giant trees with indescribable glory, and pouring, a golden flood, into the deep, spongy bo

16 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER VI CHICKADEE

CHAPTER VI CHICKADEE

I was crunching along through the January dusk toward home. The cold was bitter. A half-starved partridge had just risen from the road and fluttered off among the naked bushes—a bit of life vanishing into the winter night of the woods. I knew the very hemlock in which he would roost; but what were the thick, snow-bent boughs of his hemlock, and what were all his winter feathers in such a night as this?—this night of cutting winds and frozen snow! The road dipped from the woods down into a wide,

14 minute read

Read Chapter

I

I

You should go skating—crawling, I ought to say—over a pond of glare ice this winter. Take the pond you are most familiar with. Go early on a bright day, before any skater arrives, and lying flat upon the clear, “black” ice, study the bottom of the pond and the fish that swim below you. They have boats with glass bottoms along the California coast, through which to watch the marvelous bottoms off shore. But an Eastern pond covered with glare ice is as good, for such ice is a plate-glass window in

27 minute read

Read Chapter

II

II

Fight your way one of these winter days to the crest of some high hill and stand up against a northwest gale. Feel the sweep of the winds from across the plain beneath you; hear them speaking close in your ear, as they fly past; catch them and breathe them, until they run red in your leaping veins. Master them, and make them, mighty as they are, your own. And something large and free, strong and sound will pass into you; and you will love the great world more, and you will feel how fit a place,

30 minute read

Read Chapter

III

III

Keep a careful list of the winter birds you see; and visit every variety of wood, meadow, and upland in your neighborhood—not neglecting the parks and city trees—for a sight of the rarer winter visitors, such as the snowy owl, the snow buntings, and the crossbills....

12 minute read

Read Chapter

IV

IV

If you know little about the birds, then this is the time to begin your study. When they are so few and scarce? Yes, just because they are few and scarce. On a June morning (unless you are at home in the woods) you will be confused by the medley of songs you hear, and the shapes flitting everywhere about you; and you may be tempted to give up your study for the very multitude. Get a pair of good field or opera glasses and a good bird book, such as Hoffmann’s, “Guide to the Birds,” and go into th

1 minute read

Read Chapter

V

V

See to it that no bird in your neighborhood starves for lack of food that you can supply. Tie a piece of suet to a tree or bush near the house (by the window if you can) for the chickadees and blue jays; keep a place on the lawn cleared of snow and well supplied with crumbs and small seeds for the juncos and the sparrows; hang a netted bag of cracked nuts out somewhere for the nuthatches; and provide corn and nuts for the squirrels....

24 minute read

Read Chapter

VI

VI

Go out on a cold December day, or a January day, and see how many “signs” of spring—“Minor Prophets,” as Mr. Torrey calls them—you can bring home. They will be mostly buds of various sorts. Then, on a warm, soft day, go again to see what you can bring home—flitting, creeping, crawling things that the warm sun has brought from their winter hiding....

18 minute read

Read Chapter

VII

VII

Make a map of your sky, showing the positions of the planets, the constellations, and the most brilliant stars, the points in the horizon for the rising and setting of the sun, say, in January, noting the changes in places of things since your last map drawn in October. Any school child can do it, and, in doing it, learn the few large facts about the sky that most people are pitifully ignorant of....

21 minute read

Read Chapter

VIII

VIII

Go out after a fresh light snow and take up the trail of a fox or a rabbit or a partridge, as you might take up a problem in arithmetic, or as a detective might take up a clew, and “solve” it—where the creature came from, where going, what for, in a hurry or not, pursued or pursuing, etc. It will give you one of the best of lessons in observation, in following a clew, and in learning to take a hint....

24 minute read

Read Chapter

IX

IX

Go out to study the face of the ground—the ridges, hollows, level places, the ledges, meadows, sandbanks, the course of the streams, the location of the springs—the general shape and contour, the pitch and slant and make-up of the region over which you tramp in the summer. Now, when the leaves are off and things swept bare, you can get a general idea of the lay of the land that will greatly aid you in your more detailed study of plants and birds, of individual things, in the summer. It is like a

27 minute read

Read Chapter

X

X

Winter is the time to do much good reading. A tramp over real fields is to be preferred to a tramp in a book. But a good book is pretty nearly as good as anything under the stars. You need both fields and books. And during these cold days—impossible days, some of them, for work afield—you will read, read. Oh, the good things to read that have been written about the out-of-doors!...

21 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER VIII THE MISSING TOOTH

CHAPTER VIII THE MISSING TOOTH

The snow had melted from the river meadows, leaving them flattened, faded, and stained with mud—a dull, dreary waste in the gray February. I had stopped beside a tiny bundle of bones that lay in the matted grass a dozen feet from a ditch. Here, still showing, was the narrow path along which the bones had dragged themselves; there the hole by which they had left the burrow in the bank of the ditch. They had crawled out in this old runway, then turned off a little into the heavy autumn grass and l

15 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER IX THE PECULIAR ’POSSUM

CHAPTER IX THE PECULIAR ’POSSUM

If you are a New Englander, or a Northwesterner, then, probably, you have never pulled a ’possum out of his hollow stump or from under some old rail-pile, as I have done, many a time, down in southern New Jersey. And so, probably, you have never made the acquaintance of the most peculiar creature in our American woods. Even roast ’possum is peculiar. Up to the time you taste roast ’possum you quite agree with Charles Lamb that roast pig is peculiarly the most delicious delicacy “in the whole mod

10 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER X A FEBRUARY FRESHET

CHAPTER X A FEBRUARY FRESHET

One of the very interesting events in my out-of-door year is the February freshet. Perhaps you call it the February thaw . That is all it could be called this year; and, in fact, a thaw is all that it ever is for me, nowadays, living, as I do, high and dry here, on Mullein Hill, above a sputtering little trout brook that could not have a freshet if it tried. But Maurice River could have a freshet without trying. Let the high south winds, the high tides, and the warm spring rains come on together

7 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER XI A BREACH IN THE BANK

CHAPTER XI A BREACH IN THE BANK

The February freshet had come. We had been expecting it, but no one along Maurice River had ever seen so wild and warm and ominous a spring storm as this. So sudden and complete a break-up of winter no one could remember; nor so high a tide, so rain-thick and driving a south wind. It had begun the night before, and now, along near noon, the river and meadows were a tumult of white waters, with the gale so strong that one could hardly hold his own on the drawbridge that groaned from pier to pier

10 minute read

Read Chapter

I

I

You should hear the three great silences of winter: the wide, sudden silence that falls at twilight on the coming of the first winter frost; the smothered hush that waits the breaking of a winter storm; the crystal stillness, the speech of the stars, that pervades earth and sky on a brilliant, stirless winter night. You should hear—or is it feel ?—them all....

18 minute read

Read Chapter

II

II

So should you hear the great voices of the winter: the voice of the north wind; the voice of a pine forest; the voice of the surf on a stormy shore. There is no music that I know like the wild mighty music of the winter winds in the winter woods. It will often happen that you can pass through a bare stretch of naked hardwoods immediately into a grove of thick-limbed spruces or pines. Never miss such an opportunity. Do not let the high winds of this winter blow on and away without your hearing th

30 minute read

Read Chapter

III

III

Did you ever hear the running, rumbling, reverberating sound of the shore-to-shore split of a wide sheet of new ice? You will hear it as the sun rises over the pond, as the tide turns in the ice-bound river, and when the ice contracts with falling temperature,—a startling bolt of sound, a quake, that cleaves the ice across and splits its way into the heart of the frozen hills....

19 minute read

Read Chapter

IV

IV

One of the most unnatural of all the sounds out-of-doors is the clashing, glassy rattle of trees ice-coated and shaken by the wind. It is as if you were in some weird china shop, where the curtains, the very clothes of the customers, were all of broken glass. It is the rattle of death, not of life; no, rather it is the rustle of the ermine robe of Winter, as he passes crystal-booted down his crystal halls....

21 minute read

Read Chapter

V

V

If winter is the season of large sounds, it is also the season of small sounds, for it is the season of wide silence when the slightest of stirrings can be heard. Three of these small sounds you must listen for this winter: the smothered tinkle-tunkle of water running under thin ice, as where the brook passes a pebbly shallow; then the tick-tick-tick of the first snowflakes hitting the brown leaves on a forest floor; then the fine sharp scratch of a curled and toothed beech leaf skating before a

35 minute read

Read Chapter

VI

VI

I have not heard the “covey call” of the quail this winter. But there is not a quail left alive in all the fields and sprout-lands within sound of me. I used to hear them here on Mullein Hill; a covey used to roost down the wooded hillside in front of the house; but even they are gone—hunted out of life; shot and eaten off of my small world. What a horribly hungry animal man is! But you may have the quail still in your fields. If so, then go out toward dusk on a quiet, snowy day, especially if y

37 minute read

Read Chapter

VII

VII

And you certainly do have chickadees in your woods. If so, then go out any time of day, but go on a cold, bleak, blustery day, when everything is a-shiver, and, as Uncle Remus would say, “meet up” with a chickadee. It is worth having a winter, just to meet a chickadee in the empty woods and hear him call—a little pin-point of live sound, an undaunted, unnumbed voice interrupting the thick jargon of the winter to tell you that all this bluster and blow and biting cold can’t get at the heart of a

31 minute read

Read Chapter

VIII

VIII

And then the partridge—you must hear him, bursting like a bottled hurricane from the brown leaves at your feet!...

5 minute read

Read Chapter

IX

IX

Among the sweet winter sounds, that are as good to listen to as the songs of the summer birds, you should hear: the loud joyous cackling of the hens on a sunny January day; the munching of horses at night when the wild winds are whistling about the barn; the quiet hum about the hives,— And then, the sound of the first rain on the shingles—the first February rain after a long frozen period! How it spatters the shingles with spring—spring—spring! “ONE OF THE COVEY CALLING THE FLOCK TOGETHER”...

34 minute read

Read Chapter

X

X

It was in the latter end of December, upon a gloomy day that was heavy with the oppression of a coming storm. In the heart of the maple swamp all was still and cold and dead. Suddenly, as out of a tomb, I heard the small, thin cry of a tiny tree-frog. And how small and thin it sounded in the vast silences of that winter swamp! And yet how clear and ringing! A thrill of life tingling out through the numb, nerveless body of the woods that has ever since made a dead day for me impossible. Have you

29 minute read

Read Chapter

XI

XI

“After all,” says some one of our writers, “it is only a matter of which side of the tree you stand on, whether it is summer or winter.” Just so. But, after all, is it not a good thing to stand on the winter side during the winter? to have a winter while we have it, and then have spring? No shivering around on the spring side of the tree for me. I will button up my coat, brace my back against the winter side and shout to the hoary old monarch— and what a grip he has!...

32 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER XIII THE LAST DAY OF WINTER

CHAPTER XIII THE LAST DAY OF WINTER

According to the almanac March 21st is the last day of winter. The almanac is not always to be trusted—not for hay weather, or picnic weather, or sailing weather; but you can always trust it for March 21st weather. Whatever the weather man at Washington predicts about it, whatever comes,—snow, sleet, slush, rain, wind, or frogs and sunshine,—March 21st is the last day of winter. The sun “crosses the line” that day; spring crosses with him; and I cross over with the spring. Let it snow! I have ha

7 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER I

TO THE TEACHER “It must be a lovely place in the summer !” the dull and irritating often say to me, referring to my home in the country. What they mean is, of course, “How wretched a place the country is in winter!” But that attitude toward winter grows less and less common. We are learning how to enjoy the winter; and it is my hope that this volume may distinctly contribute to the knowledge that makes for that joy. Behind such joy is love, and behind the love is understanding, and behind the un

3 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER II

TO THE TEACHER This herding and driving of turkeys to market is common in other sections of the country, particularly in Kentucky. I have told the story (as told to me by one who saw the flock) in order to bring out the force of instinct and habit, and the unreasoning nature of the animal mind as compared with man’s. FOR THE PUPIL Page 15 Shepherd-dog: Only a well-trained dog would do, for turkeys are very timid and greatly afraid of a strange dog. Page 18 Black Creek : a local name; not in the

36 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER III

TO THE TEACHER There is a three-pronged point to this chapter: (1) the empty birds’ nests are not things to mourn over. The birds are safe and warm down south; and they will build fresh, clean nests when they get back. Teach your children to see things as they are—the wholesomeness, naturalness, wisdom, and poetry of Nature’s arrangement. The poets are often sentimental; and most sentimentality is entirely misplaced. (2) The nest abandoned by the bird may be taken up by the mouse. The deadest, c

1 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER IV

TO THE TEACHER If you have at hand “The Fall of the Year,” read again the suggestions on page 112 for the chapter on “Things to See this Fall,” making use of this chapter as you did of that (1) as the object of a field excursion—or of several excursions until all the things suggested here have been seen; (2) as a test of the pupil’s actual study of nature; for there is scarcely a city child who cannot get far enough into nature (though he get no farther than the city park), and often enough to s

1 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER V

Let this chapter be read very close to the Christmas recess, when your children’s minds are full of Christmas thoughts. This unconventional turn to the woods, this thought of Christmas among the animals and birds, might easily be the means of awakening many to an understanding of the deeper, spiritual side of nature-study—that we find in Nature only what we take to her; that we get back only what we give. It will be easy for them to take the spirit of Christmas into the woods because they are so

2 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VI

TO THE TEACHER Read to the pupils Emerson’s poem “The Titmouse,” dwelling on the lines,— and the part beginning,— letting the students learn by heart the chickadee’s little song,— Poem and chapter ought mutually to help each other. Read the chapter slowly, explaining clearly as you go on, making it finally plain that this mere “atom” of life is greater than all the winter death, no matter how “vast.” Poem and chapter ought mutually to help each other. Read the chapter slowly, explaining clearly

1 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VII

TO THE TEACHER Make a point of going into the winter woods and fields, taking the pupils as often as possible with you. It may be impossible for your city children to get the rare chance of glare ice; but don’t miss it if it comes. This is the time to start your bird-study; to awaken sympathy and responsibility in your pupils by teaching them to feed the birds; to cultivate cheerfulness and the love of “hardness” in them by breasting with them a bitter winter gale for the pure joy of it. Use the

49 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER VIII

I believe this to be one of the most important chapters in the volume, dark and terrible as its lesson may appear. But grim, dark death itself is not so dark as fear of the truth. If you teach nothing else, by precept and example, teach love for the truth—for the whole truth in nature as everywhere else. Winter is a fact; let us face it. Death is a fact; let us face it; and by facing it half of its terror will disappear; nay more, for something of its deep reasonableness and meaning will begin t

1 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER IX

TO THE TEACHER Make this chapter, as far as you can, the one in the volume for most intensive study. Show the pupils how the study of animal life is connected with geology, tell them of the record of life in the fossils of the rocks, the kinds of strange beasts that once inhabited the earth. Show them again how the study of animals in their anatomy is not the study of one—say of man, but how man and all the mammals, the reptiles, the birds, the fishes, the insects, on and on back to the single-c

1 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER X

TO THE TEACHER This chapter and the next go together—this for the lover of wild life, the next for the lover of adventure. The spring freshet is one of the most interesting of the year of days for animal study—better even than the day after the first snowfall. But more than this, let both chapters suggest to you how primitive and elemental the real world is after all; with what cataclysmal forces the seasons are changed. As summer often passes into autumn with a silencing frost that rests like a

41 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XII

I should like to repeat here the suggestions in “The Fall of the Year” for this corresponding chapter. I will repeat only: “that you are the teacher, not the book. The book is but a suggestion. You begin where it leaves off; you fill out where it is lacking.” For these are not all the sounds of winter; indeed they may not be the characteristic sounds in your neighborhood. No matter: the lesson is not this or that sound, but that your pupils learn to listen for sounds, for the voices of the seaso

1 minute read

Read Chapter

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIII

TO THE TEACHER Do all that you can to teach the signs of the zodiac, the days of the seasons, and all the doings of the astronomical year. All that old lore of the skies is in danger of being lost. Some readers will say: “The author is not consistent! He loves the winter and here he is impatient to be done with it!” Some explanation on your part may be necessary: that the call of the spring is the call of life, a call so loud and strong that all life—human and wild, animal and vegetable,—hears i

1 minute read

Read Chapter