My eyes take in a panorama of beautiful nature in colors and contrasts that would give stage fright to any artist who tried to paint the scenes on canvas.
I am getting pep, this is my treatment for tired nerves; 'tis the "medcin' of the hills," 'tis nature's cure, and how it brings the pill box or the bottle of tonic into contempt!
I'm letting down the high tension voltage and getting the calm, natural pulsation that nature intended the human machine to have.
So quiet, so peaceful, so natural that I drink in inspiration of a worth-while kind. No war news to read, no records of tragedy, of man's passions, of man's meanness and man's selfishness.
A little chipmunk sits upright on a rock before me wondering at the movements of my yellow pencil and the black mark it makes on the paper.
A delicate lace-winged insect lights on my tablet and a saucy "camp robber" or mutton bird wonders at the unusual sight of me, the big man animal brother. A big beetle is getting his provisions for the winter. I recognize his occupation, for I've read about him in Fabre's wonderful books on insect life.
Here in the sanctum sanctorium of the forest I am made a member of Nature's lodge, and the ants, and bugs, and beetles, and flowers and plants and trees are initiating me and telling me the secrets of the order.
I can only tell you who are in the great busy world outside, the lessons and morals. The real secrets I must not tell; you will receive them when you, too, come to the hills and forests, and sit down on a rock alone and go through the initiation.
You are invited to come in; your application is approved, and you are eligible to membership.
Come to Nature's lodge meeting and clear away the cobwebs from your weary brain; get inspiration and be a man again.