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whether in the globe or animal body； it is a moist thick lobe； a
word especially applicable to the liver and lungs and the leaves of
fat （jnai； labor； lapsus； to flow or slip downward； a lapsing；
jiais； globus； lobe； globe； also lap； flap； and many other words）；
externally a dry thin leaf； even as the f and v are a pressed and
dried b。 The radicals of lobe are lb； the soft mass of the b
（single lobed； or B； double lobed）； with the liquid l behind it
pressing it forward。 In globe； glb； the guttural g adds to the
meaning the capacity of the throat。 The feathers and wings of birds
are still drier and thinner leaves。 Thus； also； you pass from the
lumpish grub in the earth to the airy and fluttering butterfly。 The
very globe continually transcends and translates itself； and becomes
winged in its orbit。 Even ice begins with delicate crystal leaves；
as if it had flowed into moulds which the fronds of waterplants have
impressed on the watery mirror。 The whole tree itself is but one
leaf； and rivers are still vaster leaves whose pulp is intervening
earth； and towns and cities are the ova of insects in their axils。
When the sun withdraws the sand ceases to flow； but in the
morning the streams will start once more and branch and branch again
into a myriad of others。 You here see perchance how blood…vessels
are formed。 If you look closely you observe that first there pushes
forward from the thawing mass a stream of softened sand with a
drop…like point； like the ball of the finger； feeling its way slowly
and blindly downward； until at last with more heat and moisture； as
the sun gets higher； the most fluid portion； in its effort to obey
the law to which the most inert also yields； separates from the
latter and forms for itself a meandering channel or artery within
that； in which is seen a little silvery stream glancing like
lightning from one stage of pulpy leaves or branches to another； and
ever and anon swallowed up in the sand。 It is wonderful how rapidly
yet perfectly the sand organizes itself as it flows； using the best
material its mass affords to form the sharp edges of its channel。
Such are the sources of rivers。 In the silicious matter which the
water deposits is perhaps the bony system； and in the still finer
soil and organic matter the fleshy fibre or cellular tissue。 What
is man but a mass of thawing clay？ The ball of the human finger is
but a drop congealed。 The fingers and toes flow to their extent
from the thawing mass of the body。 Who knows what the human body
would expand and flow out to under a more genial heaven？ Is not the
hand a spreading palm leaf with its lobes and veins？ The ear may be
regarded； fancifully； as a lichen； umbilicaria； on the side of the
head； with its lobe or drop。 The lip labium； from labor （？）
laps or lapses from the sides of the cavernous mouth。 The nose is a
manifest congealed drop or stalactite。 The chin is a still larger
drop； the confluent dripping of the face。 The cheeks are a slide
from the brows into the valley of the face； opposed and diffused by
the cheek bones。 Each rounded lobe of the vegetable leaf； too； is a
thick and now loitering drop； larger or smaller； the lobes are the
fingers of the leaf； and as many lobes as it has； in so many
directions it tends to flow； and more heat or other genial
influences would have caused it to flow yet farther。
Thus it seemed that this one hillside illustrated the principle
of all the operations of Nature。 The Maker of this earth but
patented a leaf。 What Champollion will decipher this hieroglyphic
for us； that we may turn over a new leaf at last？ This phenomenon
is more exhilarating to me than the luxuriance and fertility of
vineyards。 True； it is somewhat excrementitious in its character；
and there is no end to the heaps of liver； lights； and bowels； as if
the globe were turned wrong side outward； but this suggests at least
that Nature has some bowels； and there again is mother of humanity。
This is the frost coming out of the ground； this is Spring。 It
precedes the green and flowery spring； as mythology precedes regular
poetry。 I know of nothing more purgative of winter fumes and
indigestions。 It convinces me that Earth is still in her
swaddling…clothes； and stretches forth baby fingers on every side。
Fresh curls spring from the baldest brow。 There is nothing
inorganic。 These foliaceous heaps lie along the bank like the slag
of a furnace； showing that Nature is 〃in full blast〃 within。 The
earth is not a mere fragment of dead history； stratum upon stratum
like the leaves of a book； to be studied by geologists and
antiquaries chiefly； but living poetry like the leaves of a tree；
which precede flowers and fruit not a fossil earth； but a living
earth； compared with whose great central life all animal and
vegetable life is merely parasitic。 Its throes will heave our
exuviae from their graves。 You may melt your metals and cast them
into the most beautiful moulds you can； they will never excite me
like the forms which this molten earth flows out into。 And not only
it； but the institutions upon it are plastic like clay in the hands
of the potter。
Ere long； not only on these banks； but on every hill and plain
and in every hollow； the frost comes out of the ground like a
dormant quadruped from its burrow； and seeks the sea with music； or
migrates to other climes in clouds。 Thaw with his gentle persuasion
is more powerful than Thor with his hammer。 The one melts； the
other but breaks in pieces。
When the ground was partially bare of snow； and a few warm days
had dried its surface somewhat； it was pleasant to compare the first
tender signs of the infant year just peeping forth with the stately
beauty of the withered vegetation which had withstood the
winter life…everlasting； goldenrods； pinweeds； and graceful wild
grasses； more obvious and interesting frequently than in summer
even； as if their beauty was not ripe till then； even cotton…grass；
cat…tails； mulleins； johnswort； hard…hack； meadow…sweet； and other
strong…stemmed plants； those unexhausted granaries which entertain
the earliest birds decent weeds； at least； which widowed Nature
wears。 I am particularly attracted by the arching and sheaf…like
top of the wool…grass； it brings back the summer to our winter
memories； and is among the forms which art loves to copy； and which；
in the vegetable kingdom； have the same relation to types already in
the mind of man that astronomy has。 It is an antique style； older
than Greek or Egyptian。 Many of the phenomena of Winter are
suggestive of an inexpressible tenderness and fragile delicacy。 We
are accustomed to hear this king described as a rude and boisterous
tyrant； but with the gentleness of a lover he adorns the tresses of
Summer。
At the approach of spring the red squirrels got under my house；
two at a time； directly under my feet as I sat reading or writing；
and kept up the queerest chuc