Already she was acquainted with every tree
and shrub about the place. She had discovered that a lane opened out below
the apple
orchard and ran up through a belt of woodland; and she had explored it to its
furthest end in all its delicious vagaries of brook and bridge, fir coppice
and wild
cherry arch, corners thick with fern,
and branching byways of maple
and mountain
ash. She had made friends with the spring down in the hollow-- that
wonderful deep, clear icy-cold spring; it was set about with smooth red
sandstones and rimmed in by great palm-like clumps of water fern;
and beyond it was a log bridge over the brook. That bridge led Anne's
dancing feet up over a wooded hill beyond, where perpetual twilight reigned
under the straight, thick-growing firs
and spruces;
the only flowers there were myriads of delicate "June
bells", those shyest and sweetest of woodland blooms, and a few
pale, aerial starflowers,
like the spirits of last year's blossoms. Gossamers glimmered like threads of
silver among the trees and the fir boughs and tassels seemed to utter
friendly speech.
Lover's Lane fotografia LMM źródło: Picturing a Canadian Life: L.M. Mongomery's Personal Scrapbooks and Book Covers |
Diana and I were only over in the Haunted
Wood. It's lovely in the woods now. All the little wood things--the ferns
and the satin leaves and the crackerberries--have
gone to sleep, just as if somebody had tucked them away until spring under a
blanket of leaves.
Byłyśmy z Dianą tylko w Lesie Duchów. Cudnie jest teraz w
lasach! Cały drobiazg leśny... paprocie (ferns), krzaki derenia (crackerberries) ułożyły się do snu, jak gdyby je
kto nakrył kołderką z liści. Poleżą tak do wiosny.
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