第24章与美丽邂逅（6）
Inthem，thesuroalgreencloud-puffsofthepiheskyisdfulloflife，thewaterrunshastily，stillbrowjuiceofcrushedolives。Ah’sbowlofcrocusesisamazing。Youotbelievethattheflowersarereallystill。Theyareopenwithsuchdelight，ailthrustisse，andtheyaresomany，allreagoutwideahatitsuggestsaperfectecstasyofradiant，thro-upvioletande，andsurginginsomeihmofcerted，delightfulmovement。Youotbelievetheydonotmove，andmakesomesortofesou。Ifyousitstillandwatch，youbegihem，likemovingwiththestars，ahesoundoftheirradiahelittlecellsoftheflowersmustbeleapingwithflowerylifeandutterance。
AndnowthatitisMarch，thereisarushofflowers。Dowream，whissidewaystothesun，ahebrierandbramble，dowhehelleborehasstoodsowananddignifiedallwiherearesofprimroses，suddehetangleahe，tuftsandbunroses，inabuheylookmoreallid，moreflimsythanEnglishprimroses。Theylaeofthefullwohenortherehem，totur，solemn-facedpurplevioletsthatrearupfromthebank，aothewoletowersofthegrapehyath。
Thisisthetime，inMarthesloeiswhiteandmistyiahestream，andontheslopeoflareestandspinkahealmondblossom，silverypink，ispassing，butthepeach，deep-toallethereal，thisrevealsitselflikeflesh，areesarelikeisolatedindividuals，thepeadtheapricot。Itissospidsoindividual，thatpinkamongtheinggreen，becausethefirstflowersthatemergefromwinterseemalwayswhiteoryelloworpurple。Nowtheesareout，andalohepodere，thebig，sturdy，black-purpleahblackhearts。
Thedaisiesareouttoo，iheytoored-mouthed。ThefirstandhaasMar，thedwihtlittlethitons，together。Thatmeanssummerisnearlyhere。
Ihereareoddyellowtulips，slender，spikyandese-looking。Theyareverylouttheirdulledyellowinslimspikes。Buttheytoosoonlean，expahemselves，andaregonelikeanillusion。
Aulipsaregohereisamoment’spause，beforesummer。Summeristhemove。
IowardstheendofApril，whentheflowersseemtohesitate，theleavesmakeuptheirmindstoeout。Forsometime，attheveryendshsoffigtrees，spurtsreenhavebeenburleguesofgreenfirevividoipsofthedelabrum。sofgree，aaketheshapeofhands，feelingfortheairofsummer。Andtinygreehem，likeglaofagoat。
Noensonthehillareallremarkablewiththetramembranesofblood-veiheyaregold-brown，butumhinwingsbatswhenlikebirds—callthembirds—theywheelincloudsagaiingsun，andthesunglhthestretchedmembraheirwings，asthroughthin，browainedglass。Thisistheredsapofsummer，ofautumn。
&reeissomethingthesame，butmoresturdy。Now，iril，theisstillwhite，butassingaway:itislatethisyear，andtheleavesaregthidsoftlytheirdarkblood-filledglow。Itisqueeraboutfruittreesinthisdistrict。Thepearandthepeachwereouttogether。Butreeisalovelythiessofnewandglossygreen，vividwithatenderfullnessofapple-greenleaves，gleamingamohergreenofthelahehalf-highwheat，emerald，andthegreyolive，half-ihebrowhedarkcypress，theblackoftheevergreenoftheheavygreenpuffsofthestoheflimsygreenofsmallpeadalmourdyyounggree。Somanygreens，allinflakesailtedtablesandroundshouldersandplumesandshagglesanduprisenbushes，ofgreensaimesblindinglybrilliantatevehelandscapelooksasifitwereonfirefromihgreennessandwithgold。
Ihescrub-oakisonlyjustinguhepiheirholdoheyarewintrythings，stoChristmas，theirheavygreencloudsarerichlybeautiful。Whenthecypressesrisetheirtallandnakedbodiesreen，andtheosiersarevividred-e，oillblueair，andthelahen，inmid-wihelabeautifulincwithcolour。
Notthatthisweekisflowerless。Buttheflowersarealittlelohihere:theearlypurpleorchid，ruddyandverymuchalive，youeacrossoally，thelegroupsofbee-orchids，withtheirraggeddiffereheirappearaherearethehugebud-spikesofthestout，thickflpinkebudslikefatearsofleaalreadyoddgrai-earareopen，andoutsthedelikragoffloweret。Alsothereareverylovelyand-cloutedorchidswithbrownspotsontheloelip。Thesegrowipladhaveexotiderspikes，veryrare-seeming。Anotherorchidisalittle，prettyyellowone。