Connecticut western news., 1918-07-18
THE CHURCH HILL TREES
AK Is Destroying One of Canaan's
 Beauty Spots
(Continued from last week.

' Continued from last week.
 We shall miss sadly the orchestral music of the winds among the trees readers ever heard the music of big grove of pines on a windy night? Such majesty of sound is we'll nigh overwhelming, but it Is an experience never to be forgotten for the spirit seems lamost to leave the body and to soar upward on the soaring surges of the mighty melody of this sublime anthem of the pines.
 I must tell here the story of the Katy Dids on Church Hill. August and early September the Katydids tune up their pale green banjos on Church Hill and once upon a time two night providers (harmless respect able middle-aged women) went out in the early evening to hear the witching music of the green banjo players in their leafy haunts. We (yes, was one of 'em) stepped care fully along the edge of the hill and then into the wooded depths of leafy darkness and stood spellbound, for countless myriads of Katy-dids were drumming in chorus and for the few moments that we listened we were in world enchanted. Mystery, magic, midsummer-night's 's-dream, en- chantments were all about us. All up and down the leafy aisles of the wood on and on far up the hill, sounded the twang of the Katy aids, each tree seemed alive with Katy aids and Didnts although none would be seen in the semi darkness and the effect of such countless multitude of them, all proclaiming either she did and she didn't at once and in per feet rythm was the most weird, afs- cinating fairy-like and magical music l ever heard. We, two aforesaid every time we meet to thhe night of the Katy aids, when we stepped out of the commonplace world for few minutes into fairy land. Church Hill, covered with it's ancient trees has afforded joy and comfort and pleasure to the generations gone and to those now living in it's vicinity.
 The oldest and tallest of the trees have stood, like guardians, towering above the village at their feet, watching over us all through the wild and stormy nights, and waving, like great benefcient hands, their branches of good cheer through glooming or sunny days. There are five or six especially tall pines on the top of Church Hill that have waved their woodland messages to me for over thirty years.
 Some peot has said we all "begin again in babyhood" in another world. Vague and innocent too, as they. Does it not seem as if the Buddists were right and that trees do have souls? For years and years the Church Hill trees may we'll have ab- sorbed into the mellowed flores of their hearts the countless griefs, sorrows and joys of the human lives so near them. How do we know but that each dead sorrows spirit may have fled upward toward the hill and been gathered tenderly within the sheltering hearts of then consol- ing trees. And the spirits of many tears and losses, released from the broken hearted, must have fled to the hill like birds, to be folded into their mighty arms of protectives and strength. More than one man or woman on earth has clasped hold of some great tree trunk in their hour of desolation, and found strength and comfort therefrom. So let us hnna things and will "begin again" as holy trees in another world, where trees don't die any more, and are