Psalms 148:8

Did you ever go into the woods late in the afternoon on a day of howling wind and driving rain, and did you ever see a drearier spectacle or hear drearier sounds?

The sough of the winds through the almost bare branches, the drip, drip of the rain upon the masses of withered leaves, the air filled with flying leaves fluttering down in the gloom of the forest as into a grave, the delicate colors of trunk and moss all changed and stained and blended by the soaking of the rain: how hard to believe that such dreariness is related in any way to the beauty of the summer forest!