Omaha daily bee., 1910-01-16

y ITH the coming of winter the out-of-door world is trans
formed. The somber landscape that autumn has left
NV strewn with the ruins Of a summers burnt out glory is
blanketed and buried by the snow. The still. dark
waters of the lakes and ponds, stained and cleared
into a transparent blackness by the tanning of many decayng
leaves that came tumbing down with the frost, become sheets of
translucent crystal ice. This new outof-door world beckons to new
sports. The base ball diamond, the gridiron, the regatta course are
forgotten until another season.
Soil and water have been replaced and transmitted by snow and
ice. The new medium offers other diversions.
First of all, the sports of the winter demand motion and exertion.
The spectator is now no longer a part of the scheme of things. To
enjoy what winter has to offer one must be a participant There is
no place for languor. The atmosphere is charged with vim and dash
and go.
So naturally enough all the winter sports r varying expressions
Of motion, just simple movement, the joy is that of motion for its
own sake. Skating, coasing, sleighing, they are all one and the same
in final analysis. These three are the accepted staples,of the amuse-
ments that belong to winter. In little differing forms they are the
property of all lands where winter touches.
When winter comes it is welcome for the new fields of sport that
it opens.
Gliding along with even rapid motion over a snowpacked road,
the sharp tingle of clear cold air famed against the face. an occa4
sional thrill rom witt turns olhwing swels In n surrace Del
meath, bells jingling softly in rhythm with the swing stride Of g1ngery
horses, always at a steady but fredericksburg speed-that is the
q Joy of sleighing.
= To taste the pleasures of this appealing diversion of winters out
of-doors to the fullest one must get out away from the paved streets,
away from the conventional lines of the city. Out beyond the border
Of the town where terraces and lawn are left behind and the wayside
is lined with hedgerows and fences interviewer with the whitening
weeds and vines OF the summer gone into the stretches where there
is elbow room and q bit Of space in which ones thoughts and gaze
may wander undistracted. is where one finds winter at its best. 1t
is there that your sleigh ride will lead you If you are wise.
The sleigh swings up to the hilltop and you pause a moment be-
fore crossing the crest. Off into the distance the eye meets only
restful stretches of snow broken here and there across the fields and
meadows by the brownish grey of the Bow dare of the hedges or the
smoky tnge OF the fringing woodland along the stream in the valley
below. Here and there a dried and tawny plume of blue stem o # a
stl defiant weed stalk rises from the white Of the snow in memorial
to the season that was.
Then you cuck to the horses and are off down the hill, The snow
sprays up from the shearing runners a S you advance with increasing
speed dowa the declivity. The squirting streams of spray fly up to
settle in little drifted patterns on the even surface at the sides of the
beaten roadbed. A tiny puff of snow dust follows each quick, sharp
hoof strike. AS you reach the bottom Of the hill a short, sudden rise
caused by the bump the careless road workers left at the edge of the
crossing last fall makes you draw a quick breath as the sleigh half
jumps from the earth, Then you glide over the bridge into the wood
land stretches. Here the roadway winds about on the level flood plain
left by the yer - m ~ 'ering of the now frost stlled stream The
winter woods One pIaintiveiy peeping chickadee or a
yociferous sapsucke. uIu mming about vainglortously, or maybe drill
ing industriousy for hidden larvae serve but to magnify the quletude.
This impudent little bird, however, cares not a whit for your intru-
sion. He will give you no more notice than to fit across on your APP
proach to another tree stump. He is probably real busy, anyway, as
he is occupied until dinner time getting his hardearned lunch. One
is inclined to believe that he has paused Just the same to exchange
profane opinions with a chattering squirrel up in the oak at the edge
of the woodlot.
The somber grey barkod tree trunks which go sweeping past as
telegraph poles pass a train in your quick gait along the quiet, cold
driveway, work a curious fretwork of shadows across the roadway
Y when the sun strikes his winter afternoon angle. The scene gives
little hint of the verdure that June will coax out of the tightly sealed
buds. But never mind: it's winter now and a bit too chilly to be
incoming about in the woods when the FESTIVE team is anxious to keep
going