New-York daily tribune., 1843-10-27
WINTER SCENERY.

,eased from it's ettcrs and the lclcles are melting
an the trees and the nut-hatch and partridge are
hoard and seem The south wind melts the snow
at noon. and the bare ground appears with It's
w;,bered grass and leaves, and we are lnvlgoratcd
by the perfume which expands from It, as by the
scent of strong meats.
Let us 90 into this deserted woodmans hut,
and see how he has passed the long winter nights
and the short and stormy days. For here man
has lived under this south hill side, and it seems
civilized and public spot. We have such assocla-
tlons as when the traveller stands by the ruins OF
Paimyra or Hecatompolis. Singing BIRDS and
flowers perchance have begun to appear here, for
flowers as well as weeds follow In the footsteps
of man. These hemlocks whispered over his
head, these hickory logs were his fuel, and these
pitch pine roots kndled his fire; yonder foan1lng
rill in the hollow, whose thin and airy vapor stl
ascends as buslly as ever, though ne IS lar OF
now, was his well. These hcmlock boughs, and
the straw upon this raised platform, were his bed,
and this broken dish held his drink. But ne has
not been here this season, for the phGbcs built
their nest upon this shelf last summer. find
some enbers left as if he had but just gone out,
where he baked his pot of beans, and while at
evening he smoked his pipe, whose stcmless bowl
If perchance he had any, about the depth of the
snow on the morrow, already falling fast and
thick without, or disputed whether the last sound
was the screech of an owl, or the creak OF u
bougE. or Imagination only and through this
broad chimneythroat, in the late winter evening"
ere he stretched himself upon the straw, ne
looked up to learn the progress of the storm, and
seeing the bright stars of Casslopea's char
shining brightly down upon him, fell contentediy
asleep.
Sec how many traces from which we may
learn the choppers history. From this stump
we may guess the sharpness OF his axe, and
from the slope of the stroke, on which side he
stood, and whether he cut down the tree without
going round it or changing hands and from the
texure of the spllnters we may know which way
it fell. This one chip contains inscribed on 1t
the whole history Of the wood chopper and Of the
world On this scrap of paper, which held hls
sugar or salt, parchance, or was the waddmg OF
his gun sitting on log in the forest, with what
interest we read the tattle of cities, of those
larger hute, empty and to lot like this, in High
streets, and Broad-ways. The caves are dripping
on the south side OF this simple roof, while the
titmouse isps in the pine, and the genial warmth
Of the sun around the door is somewhat kind and
human.
After two seasons this rude dwelling does not
deiorm the scene. Already the birds resort to it,
to build their nests, and you may track to its
door the feet of many quadrupeds. Thus, for
long time, nature overooks the cncroachment
and profanity Of man. The wood still cheerfully
and unsuspciousy echoes the strokes of the axe
that fells 1t, and while they are few and seldom,
they enhance It's Wilderness, and all the clements
strive TO naturaize the sound.
Now our path begins to ascend gradually to the
top OF this high hilI from whose precipitous
south side, we can look over the broad country,
OF forest, and field, and river, to the distant
snowy mountains. See yonder thin column Of
smoke CURING up through the woods from some
invisible farmhouse; the standard raised over
some rural homestead. There must be a warmer
and more genial spot there below as where we
detect the vapor from a spring forming cloud
above the trees. What fine relations are estab-
lshed between the traveller who discovers this
airy column from some cminencc IN the forest,
and him who sits below. Up goes the smoke as
silently and naturally as the vapor exhales from
the leaves, and as busy diSposing itself fin wrcaes
rs the housewife on the hearth below. 1t is Il
hieroglyphic OF mans life, and suggests more in
innate and important things than the boiling Of 4
pot Where its fine column rises above the forest
like an ensign, some human life has planted IL
sclf,-and such is the beginning of Rome the
establishment OF the arts, and the foundation Of
empires, whether on The prairicS of America, or
the Steppes of Asia.
And now we descend again to the brink OF this
woodland lake, which lies IN hollow of the hills.
as fit were their expressed juice, and that OF tho
leaves winch are annually stepped IN It. With.
out outlet or inlet to the eve it has still its history
IN the lapse OF It's waves, in the rounded pebbles
on It's shore, and IN the pines which grow down
to It's brink. 1t has not been idle, though seden-
tary. but, like Abu MuSa, teaches that sitting
still at home is the heavenly way the going out
is the way Of the world" Yet in IFS evaporation
it travels as far as any. In summer it is the
earth's liquid eye; mirror IN the breast of ma
ture. The sins of the wood arc washed out IN It.
See how the woods form an amplntheatrc about
it, and II Is an arena for all the genialnesS OF na-
ture. All trees direct the traveller to It's brink.
all paths seek 1t out, birds fly to it. QuadrupedS
flee to it, and the very ground nclines toward it,
It is natures saloon, where she has SAT down 10
her toilet. Consider her silent economy and tl
ness; how the sun comes with his evaporation 10
sweep the dust from Its surface each morning.
and fresh surface Is constantly yelling up and
annually, after whatever Impurities have accu-
mulatcll herein, It's liquid transparency appears
aran IN the spring. In summer hushcd music
seems TO sweep across It's surface. But now =
ulain sheet of snow ccnccals IL from our eyes
except when the wind has swept the Ice bare
and the scrc leaves are gliding from side TO SIDE
tacking and yeering on their tiny voyages. Here
is one jus, keelcd up against pebble on shore 4
dry beach leaf, rocking still, as II II would So2a
start again. A skiIful engineer, methinks, nisat
project It's course since it fell from the parsts;
sem. Here are all the clements for such c4l-
cuaton. It's present position. the direction OF
the wind, the level of the pond, and how mucl.
more is given. In its scared edges and veins IS
IFS log rolled Up.
We fancy ourselves in the interior Of a larger
Lo,,cn The s,,rfnnn nf tho ,,npi =. - \.