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- Author: Dallas Lore Sharp
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- ISBN-10: 1514723964
- ISBN-13: 9781514723968
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.7 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English
- SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA
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Description
The season of ripe persimmons in the pine-barren region of New Jersey falls during the days of frosty mornings, of wind-strewn leaves and dropping nuts. Melancholy days these may be in other States, but never such here. The robin and the wren-I am not sure about all of the wrens-are flown, just as the poet says; but the jay and the crow are by no means the only birds that remain. Bob White calls from the swales and "cut-offs"; the cardinal sounds his clear, brilliant whistle in the thickets; and the meadow-lark, scaling across the pastures, flirts his tail from the fence-stake and shouts, Can you see-e me? These are some of the dominant notes that still ring through the woods and over the fields. Nor has every fleck of color gone from the face of the out-of-doors. She is not yet a cold, white body wrapped in her winding-sheet.
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- Author: Dallas Lore Sharp
- Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
- ISBN-10: 1514723964
- ISBN-13: 9781514723968
- Format: 15.2 x 22.9 x 0.7 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English English
The season of ripe persimmons in the pine-barren region of New Jersey falls during the days of frosty mornings, of wind-strewn leaves and dropping nuts. Melancholy days these may be in other States, but never such here. The robin and the wren-I am not sure about all of the wrens-are flown, just as the poet says; but the jay and the crow are by no means the only birds that remain. Bob White calls from the swales and "cut-offs"; the cardinal sounds his clear, brilliant whistle in the thickets; and the meadow-lark, scaling across the pastures, flirts his tail from the fence-stake and shouts, Can you see-e me? These are some of the dominant notes that still ring through the woods and over the fields. Nor has every fleck of color gone from the face of the out-of-doors. She is not yet a cold, white body wrapped in her winding-sheet.
Reviews