Thus it seemed that this one hillside illustrated the principle of all the operations of Nature.  The Maker of this earth but patented a leaf.  What Champollion will decipher this hieroglyphic for us， that we may turn over a new leaf at last？  This phenomenon is more exhilarating to me than the luxuriance and fertility of vineyards.  True， it is somewhat excrementitious in its character，and there is no end to the heaps of liver， lights， and bowels， as if the globe were turned wrong side outward； but this suggests at least that Nature has some bowels， and there again is mother of humanity. This is the frost coming out of the ground； this is Spring.  It precedes the green and flowery spring， as mythology precedes regular poetry.  I know of nothing more purgative of winter fumes and indigestions.  It convinces me that Earth is still in her swaddling-clothes， and stretches forth baby fingers on every side. Fresh curls spring from the baldest brow.  There is nothing inorganic.  These foliaceous heaps lie along the bank like the slag of a furnace， showing that Nature is "in full blast" within.  The earth is not a mere fragment of dead history， stratum upon stratum like the leaves of a book， to be studied by geologists and antiquaries chiefly， but living poetry like the leaves of a tree，which precede flowers and fruit ―― not a fossil earth， but a living earth； compared with whose great central life all animal and vegetable life is merely parasitic.  Its throes will heave our exuviae from their graves.  You may melt your metals and cast them into the most beautiful moulds you can； they will never excite me like the forms which this molten earth flows out into.  And not only it， but the institutions upon it are plastic like clay in the hands of the potter.

　　Ere long， not only on these banks， but on every hill and plain and in every hollow， the frost comes out of the ground like a dormant quadruped from its burrow， and seeks the sea with music， or migrates to other climes in clouds.  Thaw with his gentle persuasion is more powerful than Thor with his hammer.  The one melts， the other but breaks in pieces.

　　When the ground was partially bare of snow， and a few warm days had dried its surface somewhat， it was pleasant to compare the first tender signs of the infant year just peeping forth with the stately beauty of the withered vegetation which had withstood the winter ―― life-everlasting， goldenrods， pinweeds， and graceful wild grasses， more obvious and interesting frequently than in summer even， as if their beauty was not ripe till then； even cotton-grass，cat-tails， mulleins， johnswort， hard-hack， meadow-sweet， and other strong-stemmed plants， those unexhausted granaries which entertain the earliest birds ―― decent weeds， at least， which widowed Nature wears.  I am particularly attracted by the arching and sheaf-like top of the wool-grass； it brings back the summer to our winter memories， and is among the forms which art loves to copy， and which，in the vegetable kingdom， have the same relation to types already in the mind of man that astronomy has.  It is an antique style， older than Greek or Egyptian.  Many of the phenomena of Winter are suggestive of an inexpressible tenderness and fragile delicacy.  We are accustomed to hear this king described as a rude and boisterous tyrant； but with the gentleness of a lover he adorns the tresses of Summer.

　　At the approach of spring the red squirrels got under my house，two at a time， directly under my feet as I sat reading or writing，and kept up the queerest chuckling and chirruping and vocal pirouetting and gurgling sounds that ever were heard； and when I stamped they only chirruped the louder， as if past all fear and respect in their mad pranks， defying humanity to stop them.  No， you don't ―― chickaree ―― chickaree.  They were wholly deaf to my arguments， or failed to perceive their force， and fell into a strain of invective that was irresistible.

　　這樣看來，這一個小斜坡已圖解了大自然的一切活動的原則。地球的創造者只專利一個葉子的形式。哪一個香波利盎能夠為我們解出這象形文字的意義，使我們終于能翻到新的一葉去呢？這一個現象給我的欣喜，更甚于一個豐饒多產的葡萄園。真的，性質上這是分泌，而肝啊，肺臟啊，腸子啊，多得無底，好像大地的里面給翻了出來；可是這至少說明了大自然是有腸子的，又是人類的母親。這是從地里出來的霜；這是春天。

　　正如神話先于正式的詩歌，它先于青青的春天，先于百花怒放的春天。我知道再沒有一種事物更能蕩滌冬天的霧靄和消化不良的了。它使我相信，大地還在襁褓之中，還在到處伸出它的嬰孩的手指。從那最光禿的額頭上冒出了新的鬈發。世上沒有一物是無機的。

　　路基上的葉形的圖案，仿佛是鍋爐中的熔滓，說明大自然的內部“燒得火旺”。大地不只是已死的歷史的一個片段，地層架地層像一本書的層層疊疊的書頁，主要讓地質學家和考古學家去研究；大地是活生生的詩歌，像一株樹的樹葉，它先于花朵，先于果實；――不是一個化石的地球，而是一個活生生的地球；和它一比較，一切動植物的生命都不過寄生在這個偉大的中心生命上。它的劇震可以把我們的殘骸從它們的墳墓中曝露出來。你可以把你的金屬熔化了，把它們鑄成你能鑄成的最美麗的形體來；可是不能像這大地的溶液所形成的圖案那樣使我興奮。還不僅是它，任何制度，都好像放在一個陶器工人手上的一塊粘土，是可塑的啊。

　　不多久，不僅在這些湖岸上，在每一個小山，平原和每一個洞窟中，都有霜從地里出來了，像一個四足動物從冬眠中醒了過來一樣，在音樂聲中尋找著海洋，或者要遷移到云中另外的地方。柔和勸誘的溶雪，比之用錘子的雷神，力量大得多。這一種是溶解，那另一種卻把它擊成碎片。

　　土地上有一部分已沒有了積雪，一連幾個溫暖的日子把它的表面曬得相當的干燥了，這時的賞心悅目之事是用這新生之年的嬰孩期中各種初生的柔和的現象，來同那些熬過了冬天的一些蒼老的植物的高尚的美比較，――長生草，黃色紫苑，針刺草和別種高雅的野草，往往在這時比它們在夏季里更加鮮明，更加有味，好像它們的美非得熬過了冬才到達成熟時期似的：甚至棉花草，貓尾草，毛蕊花，狗尾草，繡線草，草原細草，以及其他有強壯草莖的植物，這些都是早春的飛鳥之無窮的谷倉，――至少是像像樣樣的雜草，它們是大自然過冬的點綴。我特別給羊毛草的穹隆形的禾束似的頂部所吸引；它把夏天帶到冬日我們的記憶中，那種形態，也是藝術家所喜歡描繪的，而且在植物王國中，它的形式和人心里的類型的關系正如星象學與人的心智的關系一樣。它是比希臘語或埃及語更古老的一種古典風格。許多冬天的現象偏偏暗示了無法形容的柔和，脆弱的精致。我們常聽人把冬天描寫成一個粗莽狂烈的暴君：其實它正用情人似的輕巧的手腳在給夏天裝飾著寒發呢。

　　春天臨近時，赤松鼠來到了我的屋子底下，成雙作對，正當我靜坐閱讀或寫作的時候，它們就在我腳下，不斷地發出最奇怪的卿卿咕咕的叫聲，不斷地長嘶短鳴，要是我蹬了幾腳，叫聲就更加高，好像它們的瘋狂的惡作劇已經超過了畏懼的境界，無視于人類的禁令了。你別――嘰喀里一嘰喀里地叫。對于我的駁斥，它們聽也不聽，它們不覺得我聲勢洶洶，反而破口大罵，弄得我毫無辦法。

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