Excerpt from From the Forest
A good companion, beautiful too, in all its moods and fashions - this forest that lies before me. It rises from the valley at my feet, where a little stream, brown, iron-stained, runs to join the Medway, and stretches right and left to a wide, familiar horizon. I have watched it through many seasons and many years, seen it bathed in sunshine and swept by storms, half hidden by silvery mist, or disguised almost beyond recognition in the mantle of the snow. Just now spring is painting it in delicate greens and tender yellows; soon another autumn will be overlaying gold and russet and brown. There is always movement; the picture comes near and clear, or recedes into a cloud-hung space where earth melts into heaven; it is a kaleidoscope of colour, a kinematograph of the passing year, a painter's gallery alive. Sometimes I see it as a background for the whole history of man.
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