fined to the ground. Every tree had a water system
of its own spreading far and wide like miniature Amazons and
Mississippis.

Toward midday, cloud, wind, and rain reached their highest development.
The storm was in full bloom, and formed, from my commanding outlook on
the hilltop, one of the most glorious views I ever beheld. As far as the
eye could reach, above, beneath, around, wind-driven rain filled the air
like one vast waterfall. Detached clouds swept imposingly up the valley,
as if they were endowed with independent motion and had special work to
do in replenishing the mountain wells, now rising above the pine-tops,
now descending into their midst, fondling their arrowy spires and
soothing every branch and leaf with gentleness in the midst of all the
savage sound and motion. Others keeping near the ground glided behind
separate groves, and brought them forward into relief with admirable
distinctness; or, passing in front, eclipsed whole groves in succession,
pine after pine melting in their gray fringes and bursting forth again
seemingly clearer than before.

The forms of storms are in great part measured, and controlled by the
topography of the regions where they rise and over which they pass.
When, therefore, we attempt to study them from the valleys, or from gaps
and openings of the forest, we are confounded by a multitude of separate
and apparently antagonistic impressions. The bottom of the storm is
broken up into innumerable waves and currents that surge against the
hillsides like sea-waves against a shore, and these, reacting on the
nether surface of the storm, erode immense cavernous hollows and canons,
and sweep forward the resulting detritus in long trains, like the
moraines of glaciers. But, as we ascend, these partial, confusing
effects disappear and the phenomena are beheld united and harmonious.

The longer I gazed into the storm, the more plainly visible it became.
The drifting cloud detritus gave it a kind of visible body, which
explained many perplexing phenomena, and published its movements in
plain terms, while the texture of the falling mass of rain rounded it
out and rendered it more complete. Because raindrops differ in size they
fall at different velocities and overtake and clash against one another,
producing mist and spray. They also, of course, yield unequal compliance
to the force of the wind, which gives rise to a still greater degree of
interference, and passionate gusts sweep off