spond to the enthusiasm in Ruskin's closing
paragraphs of _Leaves Motionless_.

* * * * *

The yielding odorous soil is promiseful after its stubborn hardness of
winter months and we watch it eagerly for the first herbaceous growth.
Often this is one of the fern allies, the field horsetail. The
appearance of its warm, mushroom-colored, fertile stems is one of the
first signs of returning spring, and its earliest stems are found in
dry sandy places. The buds containing its fruiting cones have long
been all complete, waiting for the first warm day, and when the start
is finally made the tubered rootstocks, full of nutriment, send up the
slender stem at the rate of two inches a day.

During the last week in the month, when the dark maroon flowers of the
elm and the crimson blossom of the red maples are giving a ruddy glow
to the woods with the catkins of the cotton-woods, the aspens and the
red birches adding to the color harmony, we shall look for the fuzzy
scape of the hepatica, bringing up through the leaf carpet of the
woods its single blue, white or pinkish flower, closely wrapped in
warm gray furs. At the same time, perhaps a day or two earlier, the
white oblong petals of the dwarf trillium, or wake-robin, will gleam
in the rich woods. And some sunny day in the same period we shall see
a gleam of gold in a sheltered nook, the first flower of the
dandelion. A few days later and the light purple pasque-flower will
unfold and gem the flush of new life on the northern prairies. Even
should the last week of the month be unseasonably cold we shall not
have long to wait. Yet

_"----a little while
And air, soil, wave, suffused shall be in softness, bloom and
growth; a thousand forms shall rise
From these dead clods and chills, as from low burial graves,
Thine eyes, ears,--all thy best attributes,--all that takes
cognizance of natural beauty,
Shall wake and fill. Thou shalt perceive the simple shows,
the delicate miracles of earth
Dandelions, clover, the emerald grass, the early scents and flowers;
With these the robin, lark and thrush, singing their songs--the
flitting bluebird;
For such scenes the annual play brings on."_

End of Project Gutenberg's Some Winter Days in Iowa, by Frederick John Lazell

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOME WINTER DAYS IN IOWA ***

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