The different seasons of the year, too, are inseparably connected in our minds with the effects produced by them on woodland scenery. Spring is joyous and enlivening to us, as nature then puts on her fresh livery of green, and the trees bud and blossom with a renewed beauty, that speaks with a mute and gentle eloquence to the heart. In summer they offer us a grateful shelter under their umbrageous arms and leafy branches, and whisper unwritten music to the passing breeze. In autumn we feel a melancholy thoughtfulness as "We stand among the fallen leaves," and gaze upon their dying glories. And in winter we see in them the silent rest of nature, and behold in their leafless spray, and seemingly dead limbs, an annual type of that deeper mystery-the deathless sleep of all being.
