Anne of Avonlea (Anne of Green Gables, #2)

by L.M. Montgomery

‘November is usually such a disagreeable month … as if the year had suddenly found out that she was growing old and could do nothing but weep and fret over it. This year is growing old gracefully … just like a stately old lady who knows she can be charming even with grey hair and wrinkles.

Past the spruces the lane dipped down into a sunny little open where a log bridge spanned a brook; and then came the glory of a sunlit beech wood where the air was like transparent golden wine, and the leaves fresh and green, and the wood floor a mosaic of tremulous sunshine.

‘I wonder what a soul … a person’s soul … would look like,’ said Priscilla dreamily. ‘Like that, I should think,’ answered Anne, pointing to a radiance of sifted sunlight streaming through a birch-tree. ‘Only with shape and features of course. I like to fancy souls as being made of light. And some are all shot through with rosy stains and quivers … and some have a soft glitter like moonlight on the sea … and some are pale and transparent like mist at dawn.’

I have always loved the picnic chapter in Anne of Avonlea. Even though it doesn't really have a plot or a point beyond enjoying a spring tramp in the woods. 😊 Here is proof that you shouldn't ALWAYS kill your darlings.