The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1873-02-07
The Glory of the Winter.

| We conceive of summer as a beautI-
full time of the year. 1t is. From the
time of the first fragrant breath of
spring, and of the first flock of birds,
clear down to the days of November,
when the trees are stripped of their
foliage, there is not an hour in which
the earth is not robed in beauty. We
often hear people say, "Oh, the dreary
| DAYS of November !" The days of No
vember are never dreary, though men
often are. There are things in Novem-
Der that make us sad, there are sugges-
tions in November that lead us to seri-
GUS thoughts, but November is not
dreary. It makes me sad, but there is
a sadness that is wholesome, and even
pleasurable. There are some sorrows
that are not painful, but that give
piquancy and flavor to life; and such
are the sOrrows that November brings.
That month, which sees the year dis
robed, is not dreary month. like to
see the trees with their clothes taken
off. I like to see the anatomy of tree.
like to see the preparation which God
makes for winter. How everything is
snugged and packed How all nature
gets ready for the cold season How
the leaves heap themselves up on the
roots to protect them from frost ! How
all things that are tender are taken out
of the way, and only things that are
tough are left to stand the buffetings Of
winter November is only sad to me,
and it is a sweet sadness that it brings
TO nv mind. After that comes Decem-
Der, the month of beginning ice, the
month in which streams are shrOuded,
the month of SHOWS begun. And then
come January and February, the months
of beauty Is there anything on earth
so beautiful as the fallen snow? Yes,
trees that are turned to crystal as just
as beautiful The rain that you heard
pattering in the night froze as it fell,
and every tree is sheathed and cased
with ice. The glory of the sun is beam
ing through the branches and million
glittering rays strike your eye; and
with every movement of the wind and
every change of your position the glory
is wonderfully magniied. What are
chandeliers, what is cut glass, what are
the gew-gaw trinkets that human art
can make, compared with this work
manship of God? And God makes it
for nothing. No door-keeper stands to
tax you for looking upon Gods glory in
the world. There is no stinginess In
the heavens. The seasons are not mig
gardly. The earth is beautifully car
peted. It is robed in white. All the
trees are magnifcently appareled. No
leaves or blossoms ever gave them such
beauty as that in which they are array
ed. And on beholding them in the
morning one seems translated to the
heavenly land, and imagines that he
stands on the sea of glass in that crys-
taline sphere. The illusion would be
complete, if the contact did not bring
one back at the organization of the
snow. If you will take the trouble to
| examine it, it is enough to fill the soul
with wonder and pleasure. The move
ments of it, too, and the shapes which
it assumes as it drifts, are well worthy
of notice. think there are no such
lines and curves in the world as those
which are formed by the wind in the
snow, which overlap and flow into each
other in every conceivable manner, and
which are often to be seen on the sur
face and along the overhanging edges
of drifts. They are careless and grace
full beyond all comparison, and are un-
surpassed in beauty.-Beeche,' IN Her
| 4yCI of Health.