Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

inviting that I went up, climbing over piles of branches, slipping over stones in the creek and climbing under logs fallen across the water. 

Finally I came to where there were a clump of pine-trees on the top of the steep hill.  I went up the bank, slipping in the mud and in danger of falling to the bottom all the time, only saving myself by catching hold of saplings – all this merely to be able to stand under the pines.  Finally I was standing under them and was amply rewarded for my trouble.  It was enough to stand under these tall, stately, dark green trees, and hear the wind rush thru their tops and see their green branches waving against the dull grey sky.  The pine-trees made a pretty sight against the dull grayish yellow of the dead leaves covering the hills, and the sulphur stream running below.  The ground where I was standing was soft and rich with fallen needles and cones.  At last I went away and came back to my stump again.

For a while I amused myself with Buster by throwing sticks down the hill for him to bring and while I was doing this I discovered a pair of flichers in the tall hickory again.  As I came closer to the tree, they flew away to a tree across the hollow up which they began which they began to climb up one on each side of the trunk.  Then we went racing over the fields and marshes until we