Charles J. Herr

“ Here and there we observed spaces in the valley resembling sunken gardens, with houses surrounded by their graceful elms, or having tree-bordered fields in their midst. We knew not in which direction to look, for beauty was on every side and we absorbed new life, new hope, and spiritual tone from our wonderful environment.
"Today we dine at the sign of the White Pine Bough," we said, as we beheld a fine forest of evergreens, whose myriad needles seemed to be calling us to enjoy their "restful solitude." Chickadees and warblers sang among their branches. ”

“ Their brilliant spikes of blossoms were like magic wands, enticing us through the place like fair enchantresses. Ferns, the like of which we never beheld, grew all about the highway. Great Osmunda ferns, nearly as high as our heads, formed vase-like clusters, whose magic shields seemed guarding the home of some forest nymphs. It is a delight to be alive amid scenes so fair and on days which are as perfect as July days can be.
Imagine if you can a balmy south wind, heavily laden with the fragrance of pine mint, balsam and scented fern; myriads of pine needles each tipped with its diamond drop ”

“ Standing here, gazing at the glorious landscape circling round with its far-flashing streams, placid lakes, and the infinite blue dome of the sky above, and an air of mystery brooding over all, we exclaimed with the poet: "And to me mountains high are a feeling, but the hum of human cities torture."
What a wealth of natural beauty greets you here! It is the highest point along the Mohawk trail, twenty-two hundred and two feet above sea level. From the sixty-foot observatory the eye sweeps sections of four states: Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and New York. ”

“ There was a great horse chestnut tree beside the house, towering above the gable, covered with blossoms. The poet looked up and laid his trembling hands upon the trunk. "I planted the nut," said he, "from which the tree grew. My father was with me when I planted it."
As we admired the shrubbery and trees at Elmwood, we thought of the inspiration this spot afforded that generous soul who dwelt so happily here.
"Give fools their gold and knaves their power.
Let Fortune's bubbles rise and fall;
Who sows a field or trains a flower,
Or plants a tree is more than all." ”

“ How delicious it was—the rest, the quiet, the box-scented breeze, the sheen of the sunset on the dark blue waves! The very atmosphere breathed of romance. The sinking sun was gilding the distant peaks of the Alps, causing them to grow radiant with rosy splendor, as we pushed out from the island in our sail-boat. The place was remarkably still. Only the nightingale broke into song among the fragrant bushes by the frowning prison. All else was silent, save the silvery plash of the oars that broke the surface of the water in measured and rythmical strokes. ”

“ The air was so clear and transparent and the surface of the lake so calm that a boat with some fishermen appeared to be drifting in mid-air among a "veiled shower of shadowy roses." The flight of a kingfisher was revealed in the lake below as distinctly as in the sky above. A great blue- heron, making one think of a French soldier at attention, was silently awaiting a green-coated Boche to make his appearance over the top of his lily-pad dugout. The stillness was so pronounced it seemed as if all Nature held her breath while super-powers of both lake and mountain wrought their miracles. ”

“ What an artist Nature is! One has seen nothing in the delicate colored wing of night moths, in the purple bloom of the ocean, the color of autumn woods or clouds of fair Italian skies, that could rival this "evanescent bow" in exquisite fineness. A huge mass of lovely colors, like an arch of glory, rises from the boiling spray near you, while a breeze causes the larger mass to waver from color to color and mingle with the trees on the Canadian shore. A secondary bow with softer colors is visible like a long remembered dream you have had with which you associate some real event of life. ”

“ Dawn came with a burst of glory, and the oncoming light of the soft, deep blue and the alluring purple. bloom that spread o'er the ocean was Nature's compensation for those who rose early. Before the stars had all gone to their hiding place and while the light of a few large planets was growing dim, fading into the clay, we were making our way down to the shore through dewy grass, azaleas, and various shrubs, where the swamp sparrows, robins, and catbirds were greeting the new day from their bushy coverts with their songs of gladness. ”

“ More glorious is Niagara in the garish light of a cloudless day, slipping and rushing in wildest extravagance from the rapids above. But at night the beauty is enchanting. There is a dim veiled grandeur as in viewing mountains from a great distance. While standing at Terrapin Point you are overwhelmed by the spirit of the scene around you, which seems more grand and awesome as the dusk of evening begins to throw a dark veil over the landscape; the sense of hearing is made more receptive by the lessening of the vision and you realize the awful sublimity of Niagara. ”

“ The sun, like an orb of fire, is sinking in a vast sea of gold through which a few fleecy clouds of a delicate rose color are slowly drifting. The shadowy forms of the night-hawk are plainly seen as they sweep the heavens for their evening meal of insects. We catch their eerie cries that fall from the rosy depths of the waning sunset to the darkening glades around us, and we hear the breeze softly sighing as it caresses the myriad leaves of the forest. The water of the brook grows dim in the deepening shadows. ”

“ True society looks inwardly and not outwardly, and all that does not belong to it falls away as does wheat fanned by a sheet; the trash and chaff being blown away.
One cannot tell the rich from the poor in their camouflage, but the really rich in character are easily discernible, arrayed in modest garbs as unostentatious and serviceable as those of the nightingale or the thrush. Like all great people the melody of their lives eclipses their array until only the soul-thrilling memories of what they are or were remain to gladden the weary pilgrim on life's road. ”

“ The ground on each side of the stream was a very garden of wild bloom. The sumac made a low border of glowing color; back of this flaming mass grew dogwood and Judas trees; while walnut, maple and linden, overrun with wild grape and woodbine, made mounds of bright green foliage, from which the ringing notes of the cardinal came to us above the song of the water.
Every rock and ledge was cushioned with moss and ferns, intermingled with long green ropes of woodbine, Here were vast hanging gardens of many gradations of green, softened by gleams of pale light from the afternoon sun. ”

“ Waste were the golden fields of grain upon which we gaze with such rapt admiration. Waste, too, were these mills with their whir of industry. The fury of war fell on those sunny acres like a great pestilence, and their usefulness and beauty became desolation. The only grist mill not burned by Sheridan and his men when they went through is still pointed out to the traveler. But Nature has again asserted her right and on this delightful morning the valley smiles beneath its veil of dreamy blue like the peaceful glow that spreads over the countenance of some great and beneficent soul. ”

“ The very act of locating a spot represented as famous and now seemingly forgotten had a fascination about it that excited our imagination; we fell into conjectures regarding the scenery, vegetation, and above all, the location of this forgotten place. "Trenton falls," we repeated to ourselves, is a poem of color and a softly singing cataract that is embowered in the most romantic landscape we have ever seen—we learned that from a book of travel. "It is a mere echo of Niagara with the subtile beauty and delicate charm, yet lacking the noisy, tumultuous demonstrations of the greater cataract." ”

“ Looking at the flock of children who lacked many of the bare necessities of life, we thought what the Book of Books says: "He who careth not for his own is worse than an infidel."
Out across the valley we beheld the beautiful Blue Ridge rising like a grand graded way. Here was displayed a panorama that of all our Shenandoah journeys still appears as one of our most memorable mountain scenes. At our feet lay the valley interspersed with villages, homes and vast stretches of corn, oats and wheat, all clothed in that blue filmy veil making all appear like a rich garden of various emerald tints. ”

“ The fragrance from the pine, sweet-scented fern and numerous mints was more pronounced. "Detached clouds seemed to be continually leaving the main mass like scouts sent out in advance to drop their silver spears on the heads of ferns and flowers on other hills." Some of the detached portions moved up the valley, others rose slowly above the wooded ridges or trailed their tattered fringes near the tree tops that seemed to have torn their edges. Every bush and leaf was saturated with their life-giving elixir. How the wild sweet carols of the birds ascended from every forest! ”

“ ON THE ROAD TO BAINBRIDGE Whoever wishes to spend a few hours of unalloyed delight amid the most charming and picturesque scenery of Ohio, should visit Highland county. Here both Nature and history have done everything to make this a journey never to be forgotten. The round browed hills lift themselves in "bold bastions" and parapets of green that seem to beckon to you to come up higher. Sometimes you see a wide plain with its far flashing stream and homes here and there, or clusters of wooded heights with now and then a single pointed summit rising above and behind the rest. ”

“ An ideal remoteness and perfection were thrown o'er the landscape by the crystalline atmosphere. Mountains, fields, woods and lake all made "ethereal pictures" in the mild evening light. Above in the blue dome, Nature hung her finely woven drapery of rose-colored clouds, whose glory was repeated by the unfathomable lake, seemingly as deep as the blue dome it reflected. Its hues were not those of earth, but were borrowed from heaven with which the poem of evening was written on the twilight sky, for the delight of all mankind. ”

“ We can see the lovely stretches of beach this moment and hear the breakers booming among the granite boulders—yes, and the grating of the pebbles that are being ground to shifting sand to form the beach.
Then, too, who can ever forget the exhilarating effect of a dip in those waves? The great unfailing attraction of the place, then as now, is the ocean, forever an emblem of unrest, changeable in its unchangeableness. To our minds the ocean seems alive. We could sooner believe in sirens and water-nymphs than in many existences that are commonly spoken of as much more certain "matters of fact." ”

“ The mahogany colored soil is devoted to vegetable and fruit growing. In spring the well-cultivated trees, including pear, plum, peach, and cherry, burst into a miracle of delicious bloom, making patches of pink as vivid as a sunset sea or others of pure white like snows new-fallen. Such scenes of pastoral beauty enhance its wildness and surpassing grandeur.
The strange beauty of the ocean is comprehended long before one reaches its shores. Mountain peaks are seen from afar, blending imperceptibly with the horizon; at first only their faint outlines are revealed as you gradually approach. ”

“ Going out to commune with Nature sounds very nice, but it requires the patience of a job, the eyes of a Burbank, the ears of a Mozart, and the great loving heart of a Burroughs if one is to gain the most from one's rambles. You will never learn the hymns that the forest and waterfalls have been singing for ages; never really know the song of the hermit thrush or the mystery and grandeur of mountains, if you are unwilling to pay the price. ”

“ The birds at this season of the year do most of their singing in the morning hours. Early as the time was, we were not the first to greet the coming dawn.
The blue mantle that clothed the mountains had been withdrawn so that the serrated points of spruce and pine stood out in bold relief against the pale blue of the morning sky. The stars, like far-off beacon lights along the mountain tops, slowly melted into the dawn. Over in the direction of Mount Willard the rich contralto of the wood thrush sounded; the white crowned sparrow's sweet, wavering whistle rang from the spruce crested slopes ”

“ How much of our enjoyment in birds and flowers we owe to this gentle lover of the true and beautiful in Nature. How many lives he has helped, by showing them wherein lies the real gold of these hills. On reading his pages, redolent with the spirit of the out-of-doors, one is conscious of a feeling of grandeur and solemnity as when listening to a sonata by Beethoven.
The beautiful village of Roxbury is the birthplace of this gentle Nature lover and enthusiast. Here too, Jay Gould, the great railroad magnate, was born. Both grew up in the same town, amid the same sublime mountain scenery. ”

“ What could be more beautiful than to pass through the country in July when every turn on the highway discloses a picture of rarest beauty? What a vast volume of divine verse, of sonnets, lyrics, and idyls, is opened before you, wrought out of meadows, groves and sparkling streams! The valleys with their broad green meadows, fields waving with golden grain or dark green corn that bent and tossed in the morning wind, was an inexhaustible delight. A few exquisitely white fleecy clouds, pushed across the deep blue sky by a southern breeze, made running shadows of rhythmical motion. ”

“ What had he to give the eager growing soul hungering and thirsting for the beauty and freedom of Nature? Had he more of the beauty and fragrance of the willow, so redolent of spring, in his heart there were less need of willows above his desk. A few of the fragrant buds in a vase would have had more effect upon Willie and the whole school than the scattered bits of golden pieces lying on the floor. Which is the greater knowledge—to be able to feel spring open in your heart on hearing the phoebe-bird, or to glibly repeat six times eight? ”