Norwich bulletin., 1917-08-02
Nature.
Jewett City

Have you ever walked through a field of daisies or along the cool, shady paths of some forest and admired the majestic ferns or the tiny swamp-vi- olets growing along the banks of some ripping brook? Have you ever thrilled at the song of some bird, soaring high up in the heavens, or sighed with the pines that crowned the summit of a familiar hill? It doesn't take a poet to recognize these things-each and every one of Gods creatures is born with the sense of Law and Beauty deep down in his soul, and 1t is for ever trying to express itself. When we see thing that is beautiful, some thing within us instantly responds and we admire it's various points of peculiarity and beauty.
 A poet is the most perfect prophet of beauty-he is born fully developed and can see farther and know deep CT than any ordinary person. But we are all poets in the sense of the word; all we have to do is to cultivate the gifts which are within us. Before anything else we should learn to ap- preciate the beauties and wonders about us. On every side, from east to west, north to south there stretch es a vast panorama of magnificance- Natures Garden. We of the twentieth century, with all our great inventions and so-called advances In civilization. have declined in our appreciation of Nature. We don't see in the wild-rose, the snow white daisy or the golden butter-cup the sweetest thing God ever made, and forgot to put a soul into" but instead, look upon them as worthless weeds, only fit to grace the borders of dusty country roads. Is it they who have lost their charm, or we? What are flowers good for. any how? If we want flowers we can buy them-they grow plenty at the hot housei
 When we walk under sylvan boughs we fail to catch the greetings which the feathered songsters are sending the tiny squirrel as he scampers over the crumbling old stone-wa1l. We have no time for such musing; our mind is troubled with more important things! We drink of the sparkling waters of a gushing spring but are blind to the glories reflected in it's crystal pool; sitting under the lofty pines we hear them waving in the breeze, but never interpret what they
 Still there are few. the poets, and others who notice these things. who appreciate them and learn from them lessons which no mortal man could ever teach. Far out in the country away up the winding bend of a narrow. dusty. little road, there stands an old farm house. The children who live in it ronnp and play all day long. They know the surrounding country like a
 
 brook and pond, each shady nook and knoll. has it's associations They know where the most fragrant violets grow and where the black-eyed- susans are in the greatest abundance The songs of the birds. the trickling brooks that run down the mountain sic, the old swamp with it's band of croaking frogs and water snakes, all have their charms for them.
 Would it not be well if we all would pay a little more attention to this glorious world about us? Let's | leave the tiresOne environment of | every day life once in awhile and for get everything dark and dreary. Let's | see if we can't find something in every one of Natures manifesto tions. Take | walks and drives in the country, sit | and listen to the music of bird and | bee, and gaze far up into that sea of | blue we call the heavens, and watch | the feecy clouds roll by. Slowly, but | surely, the self within will. unfold l and you will have begun the develop l nent of your sense of Beauty
 WALTER V. GAVIGAN. 1